A Matter Of Trust
by TStabler
Summary: When a member of the 16th Precinct's SVU becomes the victim, the squad has to sit back while the feds handle the case. The man in charge, though, is someone they all know and trust. Relationships are tested and pushed when the truth surfaces. E/O FIC 100
1. Criminal

**A/N: A new one, marking my 100th SVU story! Hope it's epic enough to do it justice.**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue and plot of this story**

She answers the phone, her usual response is blurted out robotically. "Benson."

_"What are you wearing?"_

She smirks, then leans back in her rolling chair. "You saw me before I left the house," she says. "I haven't changed."

_"Funny."_

She can hear the light slapping sounds that seem distant, yet too close. She lowers her voice. "What are you doing?"

_"Thinking about you." _

She bites her lip. "Yeah?" She chuckles to herself as she thinks. In the last few months, everything she had already loved about him shifted and changed a bit, pulling her down deeper into the dark spiral of her obsession with him.

_"I'm always thinking about you when I'm not with you."_

His words make her wet, she shifts in her seat. "You know you shouldn't have called me at work, right?" she asks, looking around at the busy people within earshot. She tries not to moan as she realizes what's happening. It took years for them to get here, something always stood in their way. She finally took his bait, let him hook her, and now, when he's with her, he acts more like a teenager than a man barreling toward fifty. She loves it.

_"I needed to hear your voice." _

She lets his words land, it's a gravelly confession, and there's a hidden grunt in his voice. "Why?" she asks. She knows him well, and she is aware that just thinking about her can have him blowing his gasket in mere minutes, if he focuses. She's witnessed it before, and will again, and she laughs. "What do you want me to say?"

_"Just...tell me you love me. Once." _

She knows what he's doing now, and she wishes that, like him, she was at home instead of at work. She wishes she was in front of him, watching, helping, feeling, tasting. She looks across her desk at her oblivious partner, lowers her voice, and her eyes narrow with the lustful thought of what is about to happen. "I love you," she says.

_"Oh, fuck, yes!"_

She hears a harsher grunt and a low long moan, and she grins as she leans back in her chair. "Was that for me?" she asks, her tone more seductive than she planned. It makes the man in the desk before her look up and raise an eyebrow, but she shakes her head at him.

_"Always. When are you coming home?" _

She looks around and says, "I should be home by..." But the slam of Cragen's door shuts her up. "Shit," she spits, sitting up. "You know that sound. I gotta go. I'll...I'll call you later." She can't help but smile when his last words hit her ear through the phone. "I love you, too, El," she whispers. She hangs up the phone and turns around, clicking her pen incessantly. "Problem, Cap?"

"No one goes anywhere," Cragen orders. "No one does anything, no one leaves this room without my say-so." He points a finger. "Benson! Go down to Warner, get the envelope from her. Don't open it, don't ask questions, don't say anything to her, just get the envelope and bring it back up here!"

Fin raises both eyebrows as he fold his arms. "We're on lock-down? For what?"

Cragen doesn't answer, and instead he points to Olivia again. "Move it, Benson!"

Olivia stands, her heart pounding now. "Who?"

Cragen shakes his head. "Not now, Benson. Just do what you're told." He runs a hand over his face as he kicks the wall to his right. "And for fuck's sake, tell me one of you can still get in touch with Stabler!"

"What?" Nick Amaro rises to his feet. "Why?"

Cragen seems to snarl at Nick. "You know why," he sneers. "Stabler is the only one who can work this case."

Olivia's stomach flips as she takes a look around the room, and she realizes. "Oh, my God," she gasps. "Rollins? How? When?"

"Morgue, Benson!" Cragen yells. "Now!"

Jumping, Olivia moves. She walks out of the squad room, and she knows that shit is gonna hit the fan. Needing to warn him, she pulls her cell phone out of her pocket, and she dials as she hits the call-button for the elevator. "Hey, it's me. No! Keep your pants on, baby. I'm calling because...I know the house phone is ringing. I'm trying to tell you...Cragen is gonna...El?" She huffs as she walks onto the lift and she punches the button for the ground level. "Shit."

She redials his number, and he answers it with a short curse. "I tried to tell you," she says rolling her eyes. "It's okay. No, I...I can't. Cragen put us all on lock-down. Someone in the unit." She hears him shifting and she hears the jingle of keys. "I guess I...I will see you in a few minutes. Oh, and El? No one here knows, like I promised." She closes her eyes as she hears him say, for the last time in what could be days, the words she's grown so used to hearing. "I love you, too."

Melinda Warner gives Olivia a grim look as the doors slide open further. "Michael?" she asks.

"Yeah," Olivia says, a lie, but one she's been telling for months. "This is gonna be a long one, huh?" She presses her lips together for a moment, then asks, "It's you and me, Mel. How did it happen?"

Warner squints and leads Olivia into an exam room. "You know, then?"

"I figured it out," Olivia shrugs. "Was she..."

"If she wasn't, they would have called in Homicide," Melinda interrupts. "I can't tell you the details, and I can't show you the body." She hands Olivia a brown envelope. "Your unit's on lock-down, tenfold. I heard they're bringing in feds for this one."

Olivia slaps the brown paper against her other hand lightly, nervously. "So the prime suspect has to be someone else in the..."

"I can't tell you," Melinda repeats. She gets a little closer and lowers her gaze to her hand. She makes a fist and waves it up and down a bit, earning a gasp from Olivia. "I didn't tell you anything."

"Of course, not," Olivia returns. She grips the envelope tighter and walks out of the room, heading toward the elevator again, as her mind churns. She goes through the day's events, and she tries to remember who went where, if she saw anyone leave alone, or with Rollins. She bites her lip so hard she draws blood, but she doesn't care. She doesn't even feel it.

She barely hears the ding as the lift stops, and she walks off of it robotically. She bypasses the hallway full of jabbering cops, and she turns into the squad room, heading undeterred toward Cragen's office. She knocks, and is startled when the door flies open while her hand is still in the air.

"In," Cragen snaps. "Sit."

"Please?" Her attempt at lightening the mood fails, and she clears her throat as she slips into a chair. "Cap, I know we're not allowed to..."

"You were the only one who wasn't with her at all," Cragen says, folding his arms. "Not in the last two days. I know you had nothing to do with this, but I can't legally let you work this, so please, don't ask me."

She licks her lips, the metallic taste of the blood left on them makes her cringe. "Did you...did you get in touch with...him?"

Cragen eyes her for a moment. "You can say his name, Olivia. Elliot. Yes, I did, and he's on his way. I can't let you work this with him. I'm sorry."

"Did I ask you to?" she asks, narrowing her eyes.

"You want to, I know you," Cragen says, and he shakes his head. "I know what you're thinking."

"Are you psychic now?" she quips. "I have a mountain of paperwork on my desk. He can hack away at this with the cast of The Jersey Shore, for all I care, Cap. He's not my partner anymore." She sits back, then she smirks. "You want me to work it with him, don't you?"

Cragen takes a breath, and instead of answering, he holds his hand out. "Envelope?"

"You do, don't you?" she questions, slapping the envelope into her captain's hand. "If you talk to Tucker or Chief..."

"Paperwork," Cragen says, nodding toward the door. "You...you shouldn't be in here when I open this."

Olivia blinks, then stands. "I'd be objective, Cap," she defends. "I didn't know her that well. I tried...very hard to keep things..."

"I know," Cragen says sadly. "You kept her at arm's length. You kept Amaro even further away from you. For once...it looks like that was smart."

She shakes her head and turns the doorknob, and she leaves him alone in his office. As she heads toward her desk, she zeroes in on the faces of the men in the room. She tries to discern guilt, anxiety, but all she sees written on every expression is concern and anger.

She sighs as she sits at her desk, and she picks up a gold pen and a file folder. Flipping it open, she sits back, and as she reads it, she begins to click the pen, over and over again.

"That's really fucking annoying, Benson," a voice behind her says. It sounds playful, though, and it makes her turn with wide eyes.

Munch, Fin, several uniformed officers, and Nick Amaro all stare, and they wait.

She tosses her file down on the desk. "Do something about it, Stabler," she quips, standing.

And because it's expected, because they know it's what everyone is waiting for, they close the gap between them, and they hug. "I missed you," she whispers, the tears in her eyes very real despite the charade. It's been so long since she's seen him in the squad room, and knowing that he will be working a case on her turf without her hurts.

He inhales deeply as he buries his head in her neck, and he squeezes a bit a tighter. "God, I missed you, too," he says, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then he whispers, "I love you."

She pulls away from him, knowing the hug is lingering and people will ask questions she isn't ready to answer. She folds her arms and steps back, watching as the crew he left behind steps up to him, shakes his hand, and welcomes him home. She gnaws on the inside of her cheek, wondering how long it will be until someone notices the ring on his left hand is different, until someone notices the kick in his step, until someone notices that when Elliot's around, she doesn't call 'Michael' or even talk about him, until someone notices the truth.

Amaro interrupts her worries, though. "So, that's him?"

She nods. "That's Elliot Stabler," she says. And she turns to face him. "That's the guy that's gonna make the asshole who did this regret the day he was born. El's been known to make grown men cry. Usually it's because he's broken their arms or..."

"I get it," Amaro says, rolling his shoulders. "When did he go fed?"

"A while ago," she says, proud. "Someone made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

"Cute," Amaro snorts. "Is he really...what everyone around here says he is?"

"He's worse," she returns as she raises an eyebrow, and she thinks she sees the barest flash of fear cross over his face. She turns to Elliot, and she smiles at him.

He winks at her, then heads for Cragen's office. "Cap?" he calls, knocking and pushing the door open. "You called?"

Cragen sighs in relief as he stands and shakes Elliot's hand. "Thanks for coming down here. How have you been?"

"Can't complain," he says, sitting. "Things kinda fell apart around here, though, huh?"

"Don't start with me," Cragen warns, then he hands him the envelope. "Read it. And...if you can...get Olivia alone. Tell her everything."

Elliot raises an eyebrow. "What? Why? I thought you guys were on lock..."

"I can't tell her anything," Cragen interrupts. "I can't put her on the case. But she needs to know about this. About all of it."

Elliot bites his lip, then scratches his head. His new job gives him the authority to fill her in, but it also gives him more rules and harsher penalties for breaking them. "Only if, when she's away from the squad room, you consider her a Marsh..."

"Done," Cragen says, nodding. "Whatever you need. Just...I know you didn't know her, Elliot, but for the last six months, Amanda Rollins was one of us. She was a part of this family."

"And you think the son of a bitch who raped and killed her is, too?" Elliot asks, scanning the document in his hands. He looks up to ask a question, but he stops. It's then that he sees the real fear in Cragen's eyes. "What? What's that look for?"

"Don't let Olivia out of your sight," Cragen says firmly. "If this prick is someone in the unit...he might go after..."

"Liv," Elliot whispers, his eyes trying to bore a hole through the door. "I won't leave her alone. Not for a second. I promise." He doesn't look back at Cragen as he leaves the room, and he heads toward Olivia with fire in his eyes and power in his steps. "You," he snaps, "Are coming with me."

She raises both eyebrows and says, "Yes, Sir." She grabs her jacket and follows him, knowing everyone's already wondering about them. She only hopes she can come up with convincing answers before the truth comes out.

**A/N: What is Elliot's new job? What are Olivia and Elliot hiding? Who killed Rollins? IF YOU ARE READING THIS, THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT TO WRITE. MY 100th FIC IS DEDICATED TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!**


	2. Disclosure

**A/N: Disclosure: The act or instance of exposure or revelation**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue and plot of this story**

"You know why I'm letting you read that, right?" Elliot asks, his arms folded as he stares at her.

Olivia nods, biting her lip. "I though Cragen said I couldn't work..."

"You can't," he interrupts, leaning back against the high wall behind him. "You're not working it. Not this time. At least...not yet. I just...I need you to know what happened. You need to be careful, and you have to consider everyone in that room a suspect."

She blinks once, then takes a shaky breath. "She was restrained with her own cuffs...so she couldn't fight him off," she says softly, reading the file in her hands. "Traces of spermicide...powder from latex gloves..." She stops and looks at him. The way he leans against the ledge of the roof brings back memories, good and bad, and she misses the talks they used to have up here. "It's definitely a man, and it's definitely a cop. You were always afraid this would happen," she says, closing the folder and handing it back to him.

He takes the file, and he sighs. "Son of a bitch became a cop to learn how to get away with murder."

"Rape," she says gruffly, crossing her arms. "And murder."

"I thought you'd be out of here when it happened," he whispers. "Liv, if it's someone in your unit, I can't stand..."

She stops his speaking with a soft kiss; it shocks her more than him because she's not one for getting personal at work. Especially with him, when the risks are high and many. It's a bold move on her part, and it makes her realize just how much he's changing her. "Relax," she says quietly, her eyes still closed as she pulls away from him. "Please."

He nods and sighs as he pulls her into his arms. "I'm not leaving you alone. Not for a second. You know that, don't you?"

She laughs against his chest, and she says, "Yeah." She lets her eyes close, and for a moment all she can hear is the sound of his heartbeat, she can hear him breathing. She wraps her arms around him and she tries like hell to burn this into her memory, because she has never felt more loved and safe as she does now.

He kisses the top of her head, taking a deep breath of her, and then lets go of her. "We should...get down there. I've gotta start questioning people, running call logs, tracing...why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing," she shrugs. Then she smirks. "Special Agent Stabler," she teases.

"Very Special," he says with a wink.

She grins. "You're an arrogant bastard," she says, "But I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispers to her. "You never read this, hear me?"

She gives him a mock-salute and says, "Yes, Sir."

He growls, his ego and certain other body parts swelling at her words as he watches her turn and walk away. "I fucking love when you call me that," he says, under his breath.

"I know," she retorts, having heard him. They share a laugh as they make their way back into the building, down the stairs, to the squad room.

Elliot takes one last deep breath and lets it out slowly, regretting what he has to do. Tear what used to be his team, his family apart, right at the seams.

* * *

><p>"So," Fin says, kicking back in the metal chair and plopping his feet on the cold table, "Are you going alphabetically, starting with the most likely suspect, or starting with people you have a serious grudge against?"<p>

Elliot blinks. "You're the first one in here."

"Exactly why I'm askin'," Fin scoffs.

"Why would I have a grudge against you?" Elliot asks, taking off his jacket. He lays it over the back of his chair and walks a few feet toward Fin's side of the table.

"You took off, you knew Liv would need a shoulder to cry on with you gone," Fin starts. "You knew it would be me."

Elliot chuckles. "Knock it off, man," he says, shaking his head. "You didn't sleep with Olivia, can we get back to the real reason you're here?"

Fin blinks back at him. "How do you know I didn't..."

"She's my best friend," Elliot interrupts. "You think just because I don't work here anymore, that means I stopped talking to her? Stopped seeing her? We talk. I know all about Michael, I've met him, and...I'm not jealous. She's happy. Stop trying to piss me off, and answer the fucking question."

Fin clears his throat. "Ya got me," he says, rolling his eyes. "I was out. On a call. Alone."

"Alone?" Elliot asks. "According to your log, you were out with Munch, until someone called for backup." He throws the list of names and phone numbers down in front of Fin. "Amanda Rollins called your cell twice, three hours before she was found, raped, beaten, dead." He unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and stares at Fin intently, rolling up his sleeves.

"She called," Fin says, shoving the papers away from him. "So what? She probably called Liv, too, man. And every other detective in the unit."

Elliot smacks Fin's left foot off of the table, and he sits in its vacated spot. "What did she want?"

"Like you said," Fin begins. "Backup. She said Amaro took off, she didn't wanna go into the warehouse alone. I left Munch to question the punk-ass clerk we were with and I went."

"Not looking good, here, Fin," Elliot says, his voice low. He drops his arms and grabs the edge of the table, and he leans closer to his former friend and colleague. "What happened when you got there?"

Fin rolls his eyes again, shoves himself backward, and stands. "Man, this ain't cool! You know me, Elliot! You know I didn't do this! Stop wastin' time askin' me stupid shit and go find the ass..."

"If you have nothing to hide, you wouldn't be getting so defensive," Elliot interjects, standing and moving closer to Fin. With fire in his eyes, he snarls and asks, "What happened when you got to the warehouse, Detective Tutuola."

"Are you pullin' rank with me?" Fin questions, offended. "Agent Stabler," he snorts, it sounds like an insult. "She was gone, okay? I showed up, and she was gone. Place was clear, car was gone. I guess Amaro went back, they checked it out, they left."

"She never called you to tell you that backup was no longer needed," Elliot states. "You're telling me she broke protocol, ignored standard..."

Fin throws his arms up, stopping Elliot. He chuckles bitterly and yells, "She was a rookie, man! She didn't know the protocol for anything! She had a lot to learn and wouldn't take the time to..."

"You're saying she didn't belong here, then?" Elliot asks, raising an eyebrow.

"The only woman who has the balls and the brains to make it in this unit is Liv," Fin spat. "I understand Cragen replacin' your ass after you quit. But Liv isn't even gone and he hired..."

Elliot holds up a hand. "You think Cragen was trying to replace Liv? With Rollins?"

Fin closes his eyes and sighs, slumping back into his chair. "Yeah," he breathes. "I thought Liv was gearin' up to leave, too. She's been sayin' for months how different it is without you, how much harder it is to work without you, it got fuckin' annoying. I thought she was transferrin' or somethin' and when Rollins showed up..." he shrugs again.

"You really don't want Liv to leave, huh?" Elliot asks, his teeth nipping at the inside of his cheek.

Fin looks up at Elliot, his eyes narrow. "Of course not," he says harshly. "If I knew...I knew for sure that she was, I'd do anything to convince her to stay."

Elliot runs a hand down his face and starts for the door. "Cool off a minute," he tells Fin. "I'll be right back." He walks through the door, meeting his partner and Ed Tucker on the other side of the two-way glass. "Motive," he says, raising a finger, "And opportunity."

Tucker shakes his head. "You don't really think he did this," he says, his tone questioning and convinced at once.

"He might have," Elliot shrugs. "We have eight other suspects in that room, though. They all need to be..."

"Seven," his partner corrects. "Olivia isn't a suspect, unless there's something she's not telling us."

Chuckling, Elliot shakes his head. "Trust me, she is all woman," he quips. "But it's still eight."

"Well," Tucker says, "In the morning, this unit needs to get back to work. Can you narrow it down before one of your eight magic reindeer skips town while they're out on a call?"

"They're free to do what they need to do, as long as they come right back here when they're done. And they're all being tailed by an agent," Elliot affirms. "They're not going anywhere, any of them. Including Olivia."

Elliot's partner, who has been mumbling and counting to himself, sputters for a second. "Man, it's seven! Who the hell am I missing?"

"The most obvious," Elliot says, turning. "He made the call, he knew where she was before they found her, he's the one pushing this investigation harder than anyone."

Tucker eyes Elliot for a moment. "Stabler," he starts, "Are you telling me you're considering Cragen a suspect?"

He prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue and rocks on his heels for a moment before answering. "Yeah, I am." He blinks. "He made me give Liv full disclosure on this."

"Like you weren't going to anyway," his partner laughs.

Elliot narrows his eyes. "That's not the point, Dean," he says, shaking his head. "He told me not to let her out of my sight, to protect her. He could be trying to pull my focus from the other women attached to the unit."

Tucker argues, "Benson is the only female lead..."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Elliot asks. "They have their own ADA, they work closely with Doctor Warner and Doctor Hendrix, and there are lower ranking detectives, female unis that park in that squad room."

"So what's the play?" Dean asks, folding his arms.

Elliot smirks, looks at his partner, then at Tucker. "I want Liv wired, she'll get more out of them than I will. I want every phone and internet connection in that squad room tapped. Including cells. I need to check security camera footage, and if we can do it, I want more cameras hooked up in there. One in Cragen's office, one on the other side of the door. I'll talk to Morales, get him down here to..."

"Hold on," Tucker stops him. "Slow the hell down, Agent Douchebag!" He lowers his voice and points a finger at him. "These people need you to help them, not treat them like criminals."

"One of them is a criminal, Eddie," Elliot says. "No pretense, no ranks, just me asking my friend...do this." He lowers his voice even more. "Please?"

Tucker bites his lip. "Elliot, these people trust you."

Elliot lets out a thick "hmph," and looks back at the glass, at Fin, who looks too calm to be innocent and too nervous to be guilty. "I stopped trusting them a long time ago," he confesses. "Why do you think we haven't told them about the..." he stops himself, just in time. "Ed," he says, his voice taking on more of an endearing quality. "This isn't just because Liv is involved, either. It's how I work."

Dean pipes up. "Yeah. He had an eighty-year-old lady's phone tapped last week because she was on his list of suspects in a ponzie scheme. Do you know how many conversations about cat food, incontinence, boils, gas and dentures I had to listen to before he cleared her?"

Tucker chuckles, the mood lightened just a bit. "If you can do it without them freaking out..."

"Ed," Elliot jumps in, "They will never even know."

**A/N: Ohhhhh. Thoughts?**


	3. Confession

**A/N: Confession: admittance of information, admission of something embarrassing, expressing regret, guilt or remorse. **

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters? Dick Wolf. This story? TStabler**

Elliot scrubs his face with both hands, walking around the quiet squad room. "Okay," he says as he sniffles and blinks, trying to stay awake. "Morales, please, tell me you got something I can use."

The young technician blinks and sighs. "Not really," he says. "Fin sent an angry email to his son, Munch renewed his subscription to the New York Post. I got a few texts from Olivia to Michael..."

"Delete those," Elliot interrupts, his eyes serious.

With a click of the mouse, Morales clears his throat. "Done," he says, nodding. "That's it, though. All activity is harmless, so far. But I wouldn't think a cop would make any kind of confession. Especially not when they know they're being watched."

Dean walks over, hands Elliot a cup of coffee, and leans against one of the empty desks. "We can rule out Munch," he says. "Poor guy had a vasectomy two years ago. He wouldn't need spermicide."

Elliot sips his coffee and crosses one ankle over the other. "Olivia's innocent, for obvious reasons." He takes another sip. "So far, Fin's looking good for this. I still have to talk to Munch, though, check out Fin's story." His eyes narrow then. "Hey, what do we have on that Amaro guy?"

Dean drops his coffee to the desk and picks up a file. "Nick Amaro. Detective," he says, scanning the personnel record. "Second Grade. Patrolled deep inner-city boroughs for five and half years before moving up. Married. One four-year-old daughter named Zara. His wife is stationed in Iraq, active duty. They're Catholic." He chuckles. "Anger issues and severely protective of his partner. Shit, man, he's just like you."

"Shut it, Porter," Elliot snaps, pulling the file out of his hands. "Okay," he hums, biting his lip as he reads. He hears the footsteps of people coming into the room, and he looks up at the clock on the wall. "Okay," he says again. "He's on my list. Maybe someone saw him get possessive or...something." Before anyone can stop him, he's halfway up the stairs, and he hopes Dean knows where he's going, but not why.

He takes a moment before pushing the door to the bunkroom open, and he smiles as the light from the bullpen hits Olivia's sleeping face. He looks around, noting a snoring Munch on a bed a few feet away, and he tiptoes forward, forgoing his need to talk to Munch for the need to talk to her.

She shifts, feeling pressure beside her, feeling the mattress dip. She moans are her eyes blink open. "What happened?" she asks, sitting up.

"Nothing," he whispers. He smoothes her hair back, taking in the still-groggy look on her face, laughing as she yawns. "I just have something I need to ask you."

"Shouldn't you wait?" she asks, stifling another yawn as she straightens up. "I know you and Dean are gonna need me to..."

"I need to know this, now," he asks, cutting her off. "Did you notice Amaro acting weird around Rollins lately?"

The mention of the younger detective's name makes her heart stop for a moment. Had she been more willing to let new people into her life, she thought they might have been friends. She offers Elliot a small, sad frown. "Not really. But he did...never mind."

"No, I need to know, whatever you saw...tell me." He looks into her eyes, and he sees sparks of fear, anger, and a hint of guilt in then. He lowers his head and nudges her nose with his. "Tell me."

She smiles and laughs slightly, loving the tender side of him to which she's growing more and more accustomed. "He got angry," she says. "Almost violent. Cragen would send Rollins out with me, or Fin, and it pissed him off." She shrugged. "He went out on a call with her Monday, and it was like he was a whole different person."

Elliot kisses her forehead. "Thanks," he says to her. "If you want to come downstairs...I made coffee..." his eyes waver back and forth from her eyes to her lips, the need to kiss her growing painful. "I answered your texts," he whispers, his hand sweeping up her thigh. "Guess you were sleeping."

She nods and leans toward him, her lips barely touch his, and then they hear Munch cough and snort. It pulls them apart, and Elliot stands. "You up, John?" he asks, seeing the aging detective pull the blanket down from over his head.

"Yeah," Munch yawns, waving a hand at Elliot as he sits up. "You come to get me? Is it my turn to be the perp?"

Elliot laughs. "I know you didn't do anything, man," he says. "Just got a couple questions for you." He holds his arm out, gesturing to the door. He watches Munch move, leaving, and as soon as it's safe, he bends down to Olivia, capturing a quick kiss. "Love you."

She blinks, and he's gone, and she yawns again. She rolls her neck and stretches, then stands, making her way down into the squad room. Her eyes shift from person to person; to her, they all look guilty now. She looks at Fin for a second, watching him as he glares at Elliot leading Munch into the interrogation room, and she isn't exactly sure who's side she's on.

She yawns again as she heads for the coffee pot, and she jumps when a hand lands on her arm. "Shit, Porter!" she snaps. She rests a hand over her heart and shakes her head. "Gimme a second before you test my reflexes, I just woke up."

"I can tell by the hair," Dean jokes. "Hey, uh, Elliot's not questioning you this morning." He waits for a moment. "I am."

She sips her coffee and raises an eyebrow. "Now?" she asks. "Right now?"

"Yeah," he returns. "Conference room, please," he folds his arms, then follows her into the more casual room. He shuts the door, then sits across from her. For a moment, he watches her drink her coffee, he drums his fingers along the wooden table. "Has he talked to you at all, about any of this?"

She hums, swallowing, and she nods. "I've been briefed. And, uh, he just asked me a couple of questions. Guess he needed the answers from me before he got them from the guys," she excused.

"Right," he says. He slides a printout over to her. "Did he tell you about that?"

Biting her lip, she nods as her eyes scan the computer log. "He gave me a heads up, yeah," she says, honest. "I know you guys have this place under more surveillance than..."

"Who's the guy?" he interrupts, flopping another paper down. "The one that's been getting all those cute, little text messages?"

She looks at it, her eyes widen, and her face turns red before it turns white. "You read these? I thought I wasn't even on your suspect list! I can't believe you read these!"

"Every one of them," Dean says, nodding. "I had Morales print them before Elliot demanded they be deleted." He chuckles and leans back. "I can't wait to feel the touch of your strong hands on my body," he says, reciting one of her texts, smirking. "That's poetic. You never said anything like that to me."

She folds her arms and takes a hard breath. "Are you gonna ask me about Rollins, or can I go back out there and do my..."

"I love the things you do with your tongue," he interrupts, quoting another of her messages. He leans forward, resting on his elbows. "I can't wait to feel that big, hard..."

"Damn it, Dean!" she yells, stopping him. "I know it's your job, but do you have to be such a fucking..."

"I checked the times," he cuts in. "Wouldn't ya know it, Elliot's phone buzzed mere seconds after you sent each of those texts to Michael." He bites his lips.

Olivia blinks "So did ten other phones in that squad room, I bet. Ya know, we're cops. We have informants, families, friends..."

"He has you." Dean scratches his head. "Olivia," he whispers, "I know it's him you've been seeing. I want to let you know...I'm okay with it. Being his partner, knowing he's with you, it won't bother me now. My question is...why are you keeping it a secret if you don't work with him any..." he backs up. "Oh. Right. His job is on the line, not yours. Sorry."

She nods, her eyes close. "So aside from me sexting my...Elliot...what do you need to know?" She yawns, then downs the rest of her coffee. "Why am I in here?"

"Amanda Rollins," Porter says, folding his hands in front of him. "What can you tell me about her that might help us figure out a clear motive? Did she fight with anyone in the unit? Was she flirting with one of the detectives, someone who might have taken her..."

"No," Olivia shakes her head. "She is very...was...very professional. She did her job, and she was willing to go to whatever lengths she had to..."

"Like you?" Porter interrupts again. "All right. Now, Olivia, is there any way at all that she was working another case? With someone else?"

Olivia's eyes narrow. "You think she was undercover?" she questions. "How did you...why would you ever..."

"I'm just trying to explore other options," Dean shrugs. "Stabler is hell bent on proving it was someone in the unit, but what if wasn't? I pulled you onto cases all the time, recently so has Elliot. How many times did you work a case for Tucker without the rest of the unit knowing? How often did the two of you handle cases for other precincts, or departments, and no one ever knew? You wouldn't have known if Amanda was..."

"She wasn't the type who'd put herself in danger like that," Olivia says quickly. "Not after...she has a past, Dean, and she wouldn't risk..."

"Had, Olivia," Porter breaks her off. "She had a past, and she had a future, but someone took that away from her. She's dead. All I want from you is something to help me figure out why it happened."

His words echo in her head, and for the first time since it happened, she feels like crying. She doesn't, though. Not in front of him. He's already seen her cry too many times. She clears her throat and runs a hand through her hair, and she says the only thing that makes any sense. "Because she trusted him."

Dean tilts his head. "Who?"

"Her killer," she answers, standing. "Whoever it was, Rollins trusted him. She was good cop, and a tough girl. She would have never let someone get that close to her again, not unless she felt safe. Not unless she trusted him."

"Kind of like you," Dean whispers. He watches her nostrils flare as she turns to leave. The slamming of the door makes him jump, and he bites his lip as he pulls the papers back into a short pile. He takes a deep breath and stands, then makes his way out of the conference room and into the more clinical, steely interrogation room, where his partner and Munch are still talking.

"You have my medical records, you already know it wasn't me," Munch gripes, seeing Dean walk in. "Why do I need the both of you in here now?"

Porter shakes his head. "I just have to ask you something...something Olivia mentioned," he says. "Was there anyone in your unit that Amanda Rollins trusted? Enough to let her guard down?"

Munch rolls his eyes. "All of us," he says. "Isn't that why we're all being held here like caged rats?"

Elliot blinks. "She was restrained with her own cuffs, Munch. Whoever did this was able to get very close to her, take her cuffs without her thinking anything was wrong..."

"Like I said," Munch interrupts. "She trusted all of us. She would give her cuffs to any one of us if we asked for them." He presses his lips together. "Why are you here, Elliot?"

"What?" Elliot scoffs. "I'm working the case, John, what have I just been..."

"I meant, why are you really here," Munch repeats. "Why did you take this case? Is it for Olivia? Because if it is, you're wasting your time."

"I know she's seeing someone," Elliot says. "This isn't about me and Liv, this is about..."

"When you resigned, you tore her apart, do you know that?" Munch folds his arms. "It took weeks for her to stop walking around here like a zombie, and every time she looked at your desk she almost burst into tears. Now, you show up, working a rape and murder of the only person in this unit, since you, that actually got through to her. It doesn't seem..."

"Like it was easy for me?" Elliot snaps. "Jesus! Everyone in this fucking department thinks I just woke up one day and said 'fuck it, I quit!" He runs a hand down his face and chuckles bitterly. "I drove myself crazy, knowing I shot a kid! I kept trying to come to work, but I would break out in hives when I got to the door! Shit! I couldn't come back here, I would just see it happening over and over...and the only one of you who picked up the goddamned phone to see how I was...was Liv! So of course, if a colleague of hers is raped and killed, I'm taking the fucking case! I still have her back!"

Munch flinches at the anger he's seeing in Elliot's eyes. "Okay, I'm sorry, I..."

"And you wanna talk about trust?" Elliot barks. "How, in God's name, did that girl get into the bullpen with a fucking gun, John? Why did she aim for us before she aimed for the man who killed her mother?" He leans forward and slams his hands onto the table. "Why was I the only one that took the shot? Aren't we trained to shoot a gunman...no matter what?"

Munch narrows his eyes. "You think someone set it all up?"

"Someone downstairs let that little girl in here," Elliot says, his teeth tightly clenched, "And after going through a metal detector, two cops frisked her...she had to have been clean, right? Someone gave her the gun when she got off the elevator on this floor, John." He looks into Munch's eyes and lowers his voice. "And I'm betting it's the same person who paid one of your pals out there to kill Amanda Rollins."

**A/N: Paid? Wha...what?**


	4. Tension

**A/N: Tension: mental or emotional strain; intense, suppressed suspense, anxiety, or excitement; a strained relationship between individuals, groups, nations, etc.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters? Dick Wolf. This story? TStabler**

Elliot stands near the chicken-wire-wrapped window. He cracks his knuckles as he gazes out at the parking lot, ignoring the man in the cold metal chair. "From what I hear," he begins, not turning to look at Nick Amaro, "You were very protective of Amanda Rollins."

"I'm protective of anyone I'm out in the field with," Amaro answers, his arms folded. "That's what partners do. Protect each other."

Still staring out the window, Elliot nods. "Okay," he says, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Then why the temper tantrums? People tell me, if she wasn't your assigned partner, you screamed, cried, and threw things. Why?"

Amaro rolls his eyes. "Why did you have a coronary if someone else went out with Olivia?" he questions. "I didn't trust anyone else to read her like I could, know her next move. I didn't trust anyone else to watch her back. Obviously, my instincts were spot on. If I was the one with her, I knew I wouldn't have a problem."

"Unless you're the one that killed her," Elliot snaps. His nostrils flare, the thought of the victim being Olivia crosses his mind for a moment and he fights the nausea. "Then you've got a bigger problem."

Amaro leans back in the metal folding chair. "If you're trying to intimidate me by pulling the cold-shoulder thing, it won't work."

"Nah," Elliot says with a smug grin, "I just think the parking lot is easier to look at than you."

Nick leans forward, knowing. "You're trying to discern hesitation in my voice, aren't you? If you're not looking at me, you can listen harder. Concentrate more. Higher pitch means I'm lying, lower pitch signals guilt."

Elliot turns, then, his eyes narrow. "No," he says, hoping the tone of his voice hasn't wavered. "But that's a solid interrogation tactic." He pushes his sleeves up a bit, over his elbows, and he crosses his arms as he takes a step. "It's always harder interrogating cops, ya know? They already know all the tricks."

"Why don't you get your partner in here, then?" Amaro asks. "Ex, I mean. Benson." He smirks and he chuckles. "She's got a way of making a man talk. The way she sidles into the room, the way she smirks at the perp and licks her lips before she speaks."

"You were telling me about not trusting anyone with Amanda," Elliot says, taking a step toward the table.

Amaro smiles broadly. "Seriously. That girl," he says, shaking his head, "The eay her voice drops when she asks all the right questions, the way she sways her hips as she paces around the perp, the way she leans over just enough to give you a good look at..."

"Hey!" Elliot yells, lunging for Amaro. "Don't you dare talk about my..." he stops, his arms shake as he feels the tension in his hands and he realizes he's holding Amaro's collar, almost lifting him off of the chair. He lets a harsh puff of air out through his nose and drops Nick back down. "Are you done?"

Nick chuckles. "I know how to get to you, Stabler," he says with a tilt of his head. "It's not hard. You've got a short fuse. Being one step higher on the food chain around here hasn't changed that."

Rolling his neck and shoulders, he cracks his knuckles again. "You were at the warehouse with Rollins," he says, changing the subject. "According to Fin, you left her alone for close to fifteen minutes. She called for back-up because she didn't think you..."

"I left her alone because she told us to split up," Amaro interrupts. "I was going around the back, she went in through the front. She never called for back-up, she called to tell Fin the place was clear." He shrugs. "We had a vic at Saint Mary's, I went to go talk to her. Amanda...Amanda stayed at the warehouse. She wanted to see if anyone went back."

Elliot sits, intrigued by the story. "You said before that you would be protective of anyone you worked with, whichever partner you had." He folds his hands on the table in front of him. "We both know you would have gone further for her. What made her special?"

Nick bites his lip. "Not what you think. Nothing happened," he says, preempting any assumption Elliot might make. "Trust me, I...I didn't have any...feelings for her." He scrapes his teeth over his lips. "But she reminded me of my wife. Not physically, I wasn't...attracted to..." he clears his throat. "She had a vulnerable side. A side of her that other people around here would see as a weakness, or fear. It wasn't."

"What was it, then?" Elliot inquires, tilting his head. "Or what did you think it was?"

"Empathy," Nick says. "Amanda had this way about her...she would relate to the vic, then try to relate to the perp, and sometimes her willingness to see the good in people led to her hesitation to pull the trigger or throw a punch. I was the only one around here who knew that, who would let her take a few extra seconds to try to talk someone down before getting physical."

"Does your wife do that?" Elliot asks, his voice low. He couldn't help but think of Olivia. He checks his watch, biting his lip, and he hopes Nick will crack soon.

Nick takes another deep breath. "Yeah," he says with wider eyes and a small smile. "She's a hell of a woman, Agent Stabler, and she throws a hell of a punch. But her deep need to believe everyone has some innocence left in them...it's almost cost her her life." He sniffles, refusing to show any other sign of emotion. "I wasn't gonna let that happen to Amanda..."

"Because you can't be there to protect your wife," Elliot finishes. He clears his throat and picks up his pen. He clicks it, smiling in remembrance of Olivia's bad habit, and he takes notes as he speaks. "You never left her side, unless it was part of the job. She didn't call for back-up, it was for an information drop. That what you're telling me?" He pulls on his tie, and he checks his watch again. His leg begins to shake, his impatience clear. "Man, that is not the story that Fin is telling."

"Then he's lying," Nick shrugs. "Check the tapes."

"Tapes?" Elliot asks. "What tapes?"

Nick laughs. "You were the best detective in this unit?" he cracks. "I guess that's because Benson carried your ass." He shakes his head and sighs. "We parked near the corner. Everything that happened, or didn't happen, between me and her was probably caught on the red-light camera."

"Stay here," Elliot says, standing. "My partner will be in to ask you a few more questions in a minute."

"Aw," Nick says sarcastically. "Well, it was nice getting to know you, Stabler." He shrugs.

Elliot chuckles. "We're not done, pal," he seethes. "Not by a long shot." He heads for the door, leaves the room, and punches the air with a grunt once he's in the pit. "That son of a bitch!" he bites.

Dean, staring at him, shakes his head. "So either he knows that camera was out of order, or he really is innocent because he led you..."

"He knows," Elliot spits. "He knows damn well we already checked the cameras. And he knows that all we got was a blurry image of the car and three hours of snow and static."

Dean slaps his shoulder, then, and says, "Hey, man, you almost lost it in there."

"Yeah," Elliot breathes. "That's why I tapped out. You work on him for a while, get personal." He checks his watch. "Shit. I have to go make a phone call."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Your kids?"

Elliot shakes his head. "Yeah, sure," he mumbles, leaving the pit and walking out into the squad room. He eyes the people who suddenly freeze and stare at him, then he looks at Olivia, who is unfazed, working. "You," he snaps, pointing at her.

She turns her head from her computer and raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Let's go," he says, walking, assuming with confidence that she'll follow him. He's out the door before she's out of her seat.

"Better do what he says," Fin says, a fire in his eyes as he looks at the door, the empty space Elliot left behind. "Big, bad, government agent," he mumbles. "Don't wanna piss him off."

Olivia sighs and gets up, grabs her jacket, and heads into the hallway. She catches up to Elliot at the elevator, and she turns him around, yanking on his shoulder. "What the hell...I was working on..."

"Was he in love with her?" he asks, ignoring what she is trying to say. He gets into the elevator as the doors open, pulling her in with him.

"What? Who?" she asks, yanking her hand away from him. "And would it kill you to say, 'Hey. Liv. Ya busy? Wanna come with me for..."

"Amaro," he interjects again, his lip caught between his teeth. "Was he in love with Rollins?"

"No," Olivia says, firm and flat. "No way. Why?"

"Something he said..." he pauses, a smile crosses his lips. "He said the reason he got angry when someone else went out with her was the same reason I got pissed off when we didn't..."

"Elliot," she says, rolling her eyes, "He wanted to push your buttons. He knew how, obviously. I think the whole squad room heard you yell at him." She looks at the lights on the elevator buttons. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"I got something I gotta do, and I need a witness." The doors open, Elliot takes her hand and pulls her out of the lift, and they walk out into the visitor's lobby just in time to see Kathleen come through the doors. Elliot smiles, waving at his daughter.

"You need a witness to...watch you hug your daughter?" Olivia asks, confused.

Elliot laughs. "Just come over here, okay?" he pulls her toward him, wraps an arm around her shoulders, and heads over to one of the security guards. "Okay, Jim," he says. "You ready?"

Jim nods, and signals Kathleen to walk through the metal detectors.

"Holy shit!" Olivia yells, covering her ears as the alarm blares.

Elliot, raising his voice to be heard, shouts, "So there's no way she could have gotten through?"

Jim hits a button, silencing the siren. He reached out an arm and both Olivia and Elliot watch as he swipes a handheld detector over Kathleen. "Agent Stabler," he says, opening his palm to Kathleen as the rod bleeps, "These are very sensitive machines."

Kathleen slips a safety pin into Jim's hand, then steps through the detectors again, making it over to the other side without incident. "Hi, Daddy," she says, hugging her father.

"Hey, honey," he says softly, holding his daughter tightly. "Thanks for coming down here," he says. "I almost missed this, I was in an interrogation, and..."

"Hold on," Olivia says, folding her arms. "You planned this?"

Kathleen chuckles. "I have a twenty minute break between classes. The Psych building is right across the street. I told Dad I'd do..."

"You asked your daughter to knowingly set off the system?" Olivia asks, stunned. "And you got the security guys in on it?"

Elliot smiles. "Couldn't have them frisking my kid, could I?" he laughs. "I had to know, baby," he whispers to her, his eyes serious. "There's no way...if a safety pin set the thing off, then how the hell would it have stayed silent if someone walked through it with a gun?"

"You are really certain," she says, looking into his eyes. She watches him nod. "Okay, you needed me here, and Jim, to vouch for you when you took this...wherever you're taking it," she says, getting it. She takes his left hand into hers, and she bites her lip. "El, honey, how far, exactly, are you going with this?"

He kisses her softly. "As far as I have to."

**A/N: The cases collide. Next.**


	5. Protege

**A/N: Protégé: a person under the patronage, protection, or care of someone interested in his or her career or welfare. **

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.**

Elliot stands in the corner of the dimly lit conference room, his eyes on a poster of the president on the wall across from him. He's flipping a quarter across his knuckles, biting his lip. "Well," he says, answering the question the only other person in the room has asked him, "She's…perfect."

"Perfect," the man repeats, "That's real specific."

Elliot smirks, then, and the quarter dances along his bent fingers faster. "She's got a way of making me laugh when I wanna cry, making me calm when all I wanna do is hit something. She makes me feel. She makes me think. She turns me on in ways I didn't think were possible, and she makes me do things I never thought I'd do. She gives me a new reason to be here," he says, then presses his lips together. "For the longest time, I didn't…I didn't wanna be here."

"Are we…are we still talking about Kathy?" the man asks, squinting.

"Kathy?" Elliot scoffs. "No, why?"

The man leans back in his chair. "I asked how your wife was," he says. "Something you're not telling me?"

Elliot closes his eyes. He's just fucked up. "Um, if you wanna know how Kathy is…you should probably ask her. And tell her to call her kids, huh?" He turns to Cragen and he shrugs.

"You've lost me," Cragen says, shaking his head.

"Jenna…watching her die in my arms, knowing I killed her…" Elliot breathes deeply, trying to control his emotions. "It made me realize how short life really is, and every moment…changes the one that follows. I went home that night, and I talked to Kathy. Really talked to her, told her everything that was going through my mind. I told her the truth about…everything. I opened up to her for the first time in a long time, and I thought it was a step toward finally having a real, solid marriage."

"It wasn't?" Cragen asks, sipping his coffee. His eyes are trained on Elliot's.

"No," Elliot responds. "She went to sleep, in the guest room. I…I couldn't sleep. I was up all night, thinking, and I realized something that I should have realized a long time ago." He takes another shaky breath. "Kathy left the next morning. I guess, after everything I told her, she realized it, too." He stops twirling the quarter and grips it in his closed fist. "I haven't heard from her since."

Cragen shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Elliot," he whispers.

"I'm not," Elliot answers with a small smile. "I'm happy. The woman I'm with now…she makes me happy. She…she is my happiness." He chuckles. "I guess, in a way, she always has been."

Cragen blinks. "I'm guessing…I think I know who it is, and that your director doesn't know."

"You don't know her," Elliot sighs. "The people who need to know, well, they know. But…enough about me." He sits and he slaps his hand down in the middle of the table, hard, making Cragen jump. He moves his hand, revealing the quarter, heads up. "Recognize that?"

Cragen raises an eyebrow and he smiles as he reaches for the coin. "Your first case here," he whispers. "You came into my office…said you couldn't handle it." He swallows and closes his eyes. "I gave you this…told you to flip it."

"Heads, I stuck it out and proved myself wrong, tails, I packed my desk and went home," Elliot explains, remembering. He flips over the coin on the table. "You gave me a two-headed coin," he chuckles.

"I knew you had it in you," Cragen says softly. "You just needed a reason to believe it."

Elliot takes the coin back, and he flips it in the air, catching it and slapping it on the back of his other hand. "For years, I thought this was my lucky quarter. I flipped it a thousand times, and it always landed heads-up, making decisions for me." He flips it again. "Even now, ya know? It just…makes things easier." He chuckles and says, "It's how I got her to marry me. Heads, we elope right now and fuck the consequences. Tails, we wait, see where we are in a year." He flips it once more, then slaps it on the table. "I knew it was gonna land heads-up. Is that wrong?"

"Not if you…not if you really love her," Cragen says, biting the inside of his cheek. "You've been awake for three straight days, Elliot. Go upstairs and…" he jumps as Elliot hits the table again. He watches him slide the quarter back and lift it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger.

"One more question," Elliot says, laying the quarter over the tip of his thumb. "For old times' sake?"

Cragen chuckles. "I know what it's gonna…"

"Heads," Elliot interrupts, "You tell me everything you know about what happened that night, with Jenna." He holds his hand out in the middle of the table. "Tails, well, I guess that's not an option." He flips the coin, catches it, and hits it on the table harder than he has thus far. "Start talking," he growls, moving his hand.

Cragen looks up at him, confused. "What are you…" he swallows, he shakes his head. "Elliot, I don't know anything more than you do."

"See," Elliot says, pointing a finger and leaning back in his chair, "I don't believe you." He kicks his feet up onto the table. "This is your floor. No one makes a move around here without your knowledge or consent, or without your orders. Why the hell do you think I never laid a hand on Olivia?" He chuckles as the words leave his mouth. "Or more than a hand?"

"You could have…what are you getting at, Elliot?" Cragen asks, growing angry. "What exactly are you accusing me of?"

Elliot moves, and he stands, his arms cross as he walks. "You told someone…flat-out ordered someone in this unit to hand-off a police-issue weapon to Jenna when she got off that elevator. You knew she was coming." He turns and glares at Cragen. "You told her to come down here. You told her we had the son of a bitch that killed her mother, and you told her you'd give her a way to get even."

Cragen stands, his eyes red, his face almost there. "Where the hell do you get off…"

"Sit down, Captain Cragen," Elliot yells, stopping him. "You did your job a little too well, huh?" he chuckles. "You hired me, trained me, made sure I would learn your rules, live by them. Almost die by them." He takes a step toward Cragen and unfolds his arms. "You groomed me to be the detective I am. Was," he corrects. "But you created a monster, didn't you?"

Cragen is silent, unsure of how to answer that.

Elliot laughs at his stunned face. "Yeah. You did," he says. "And when Olivia came along, well, then you had a problem. I stopped listening to you. Doing things with her, covering for her, we both threw the rule book out the window and took care of things on our own terms." He takes another step, then sits on the table near Cragen. "Tucker was up your ass about us, all the fucking time, wasn't he? He was up ours, too." He laughs and says, "And when things got too personal, you sent her off to Oregon."

"I had nothing to do with…"

"Dean's my partner," Elliot interrupts, angry. "We spent that whole first night in the office talking, clearing things up, because we couldn't work together if we hated each other. He told me…he wanted someone else, because a few people involved with the case, including Dana Lewis, knew who she really was. You told him to take her, convinced him it was the only option."

Cragen rubs a hand down his face. "Elliot, that's not what…"

"So when did you figure it out?" Elliot asks, cutting him off. "And did you really think sticking her in another state for a few months was gonna change anything?"

"It got Tucker off my ass for a while!" Cragen yells, cracking. "What is your point, Stabler?"

"My point," Elliot says, leaning toward Cragen, "Is when it got to the point where you had absolutely no control over me, my instincts, or my actions, you decided you needed to get rid of me. You knew what would happen, and you knew damn well that I would take the shot." He lowered his voice. "Because you taught me everything I know, Don. You knew I would panic if Jenna aimed at Olivia first, and you knew if she pulled the trigger, at all, I would have no choice…but to shoot to kill." His eyes flash with anger and disappointment. "Are you proud of your protégé, Cragen?"

Cragen's answer is silence, but his expression says it all.

"So, seeing as how I think just like you," Elliot says with a vile tone, "I guess you know…that I know all about your connection to Rollins. You wanna talk to me about that?"

Again, Cragen is silent. He looks away from Elliot and rubs his temples.

"Fine," Elliot says as he shakes his head as he stands. "Talk to my partner." He moves toward the window and knocks on it, then furrows his brow, thinking, and flips his quarter. He smirks, and he turns as the door opens. "He's all yours," he says to Dean. "Just make sure he writes it all down."

"Right," Dean says, nodding as he sits. He looks at Cragen with narrow eyes. "You okay?" he asks, aiming the question at Elliot.

"No," Elliot says, heading out of the room. "But I will be," he adds, slamming the door behind him. He doesn't make it far, coming close to running into Olivia. "Oh," he mumbles, staring at her. "Hey."

"What the hell was that?" she all but yells at him.

"How did you…you were in the pit?"

She scoffs and walks away from him, heading for the staircase. "Dean thought I would be able to help," she spits, knowing he's behind her. "Because I know when you're lying, and I know when Cragen's lying. He was hoping one of you…"

"How much did you hear?" he asks, running to keep up with her. She always moves faster when she's angry. "When did you…"

She turns, glaring at him, stopping his words with hers. "I heard everything," she hisses. "Start to finish." She turns again, opens the door to the cribs, and shakes her head when he bursts into the room before she can close the door. "God, can't you tell I'm trying to get away from you?"

"Why the fuck are you mad at me, here?" he yells. "He's the one that…Liv, he set me up!"

"You didn't have to be so…" she stops, looking for the word. She throws her hands up with a frustrated grunt. "You!"

He laughs bitterly. "What else am I supposed to be, huh?" he asks, his voice gritty. "Besides," he says, grabbing her arm, "You fucking love me."

She moans against her will as her body slams into his as he yanks on her wrist. "Maybe," she says, shrugging. "But right now, I'm pissed, El. At you. At him. At Porter. At myself. Just…" she pulls her arm back, but his grip is tight. "El, come on, stop."

He smirks at her, shakes his head, and says, "You stop."

She raises an eyebrow and pushes him backward, not caring he's now against the wall and she's trapped between him and a bedframe. "You didn't have to go after him like that."

"You don't think he was just gonna come out and tell me the truth, do you?" he retorts, his nostrils flaring. "You should be even more pissed off at him than I am! He's the reason you…"

"And I never would have known that if you hadn't confronted him!" she barks.

He lowers his gaze and his voice. "You didn't know," he says.

"And I fucking didn't want to," she spits. "I was perfectly content hating Porter for that!" She tries to pull away from him again, but failing, she simply hits his chest, the only thing within hitting distance. She grunts as she realizes it has no effect on him, his body too strong and tense at the moment to be affected by her limited punch.

"Are you done?" he asks, looking into her eyes, the anger and hurt not fading at all.

She looks back at him, her hard breathing making her chest brush against his. "Damn it, Elliot," she mumbles, caving and crashing her lips into his. She hears him moan, feels his hands grab her body more firmly, and before she realizes it, he's moved them out from behind the bed.

His chest rumbles as he flips her over and presses her against the wall. "Did it for you, ya know," he mumbles as he kisses her. His hands fumble for the zipper on her pants. "Ungrateful little…"

"Finish that sentence and you'll regret it, Stabler," she breathes, arching her back as his hand slips into her pants. "Fuck."

He chuckles. "Potty mouth," he teases, shirking the fabric of her panties and slacks around her hips. "You wanted to know as much as I did," he tells her, watching her kick the clothes off of her feet and toeing out of her shoes.

She bites her lip and pushes him, hard, and he lands on a nearby mattress. She pulls her sweater over her head and moves toward him, straddling him slowly. "Asshole," she pants, unhooking her bra.

He reaches up and helps her take it off, then throws it over her head. "You seem to have a thing for assholes," he cracks, grinning smugly at her.

She runs her hands under his shirt and up his chest, then drags her nails downward, hard. "I do," she says with a clenched jaw.

"Jesus Christ," he growls, twitching as her hands move. "Ah, fuck, baby," he spits. He looks at her, his eyes wide, and he watches her tug hard on his pants. He raises his hips, lifting her up with them, and he moans while she pulls his pants down and tosses them away. "So fucking hot when you're pissed," he says, mostly to himself.

She smirks at him and moves up further on his body, stopping only when he grabs her hips. She lets him move her, and she bites her lip when she feels him pressing into her.

He watches her head drop backward, his hands wrap around her waist and grip her hard, and he groans when she starts rocking. His eyes never leave her face, every emotion crossing over her features burns itself into his memory.

"El," she whispers, her body moving over his in waves, sliding on and off of him. "Oh, my God."

He needs to blink, his eyes are drying out to the point of being painful, but he can't risk missing a second of this. He lets another curse fly as her head turns, her hair flips, and she moves faster. "Oh, fuck, yeah," he chokes, then scrapes his teeth along his bottom lip.

She lifts her head, then bends it slightly and opens her eyes to look at him. Her lips are slightly parted as her right hand slithers down her working body to grab his left. She keeps her focus on his face as she moves his hand up, higher and higher, until she covers her right breast with his palm. She closes her eyes and moans a bit louder, feeling him squeeze.

"You like that, don't you, baby?" he laughs, squeezing again. He closes his fingers over her nipple and pinches, rolls and twists it, as she moves even faster now, slamming down on him harder. He loses control, then, and his head falls back.

"Oh, God," she says, her eyes shutting. She moves with him now, as he hits upward, their thrusts in sync. She presses her lips together tightly when he digs the fingers of his right hand into her hip to hold her down and twists her nipple harder with his left hand.

"Yes," he grunts, their skin slapping as they move. He can feel her tightening, he can feel her getting closer. He smiles as he realizes just how well he knows her body. "Fuck," he hisses, the heat in his own body rising. "Come on, baby."

She shakes her head, her eyes squeezing shut tighter. "Make me," she challenges.

"Oh," he laughs, tweaking her nipple in his fingers once before flicking the pad of his thumb over it rapidly. "I will."

"God damn it, Elliot!" she yells, her body overcome with sudden tension, and as he hits into her harder, she feels her orgasm build, her mouth drops open, and it takes over. "Oh, my God." The words are barely audible as her head falls forward and she stills.

He slams into her, still working, letting her ride out her release on him. He loves watching her, and his eyes never leave her face as she cums. "Fuck, baby," he says, his teeth gritted. He moans her name softly, then, as the vibrations and trembles from her wracked body force him to cross the line.

Her hands drop to his chest, her nails scratch him hard and deep, and her eyes finally open. She watches him as he erupts, his grunts and mumbles make her shiver, and she lets a blissful aftershock roll through her as he thrusts one last time.

His breathing ragged, he cups her chin and holds her head close to his. He looks into her eyes steadily for a full minute, saying nothing, doing nothing but gasping for air. The thin veil of tension between them is shattered as he kisses her, moaning her name into her open mouth.

She chuckles, and she hears him laugh in response, and she pulls away from his mouth to kiss his neck, something she found he loves after sex.

He moans and hears her laugh again, and he smiles. It's one of his favorite things, laughter during and after their romps. The sound of happiness. As he told Cragen, she is his happiness, and he knows that he's hers.

But downstairs, no one is happy. A startling phone call has made sure of that.

**A/N: What does Cragen have to do with Amanda Rollins' murder? And what phone call? **


	6. Maternity

**A/N: Maternity: the state of being a mother; motherhood; motherly quality; motherliness. of, pertaining to, or for the period in which a woman is pregnant or has just given birth to a child.**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.**

Somehow, he's rolled them over and now has his face buried in her neck; the tables have turned. He's nuzzling and moaning softly, whispering something he knows she doesn't fully understand.

She's got her grinning lip caught between her teeth, her eyes half closed, the fingertips of one hand trailing up and down his neck as the other grazes up and down the skin of his back. "That was..."

He laughs, cutting her off, smiling smugly at her. "Yeah it was," he tells her. "It always is." He nudges her chin with his nose, inhaling the scent of her as his hands slip down the hills and valleys of her body.

She arches her back as she feels him slide one finger up her still-too-sensitive slit, and she hears him chuckle. Her eyes open fully and she looks at him, shaking her head with a gleam in her eyes. "You smug son of a bitch," she teases.

"Just admiring my work," he jokes, sucking the remnants of the last hour off of his finger, winking at her, and he laughs again as he bends his head to kiss her. "Evil, evil woman," he mumbles against her mouth.

She lets out a muffled protest, thinking that he is the evil one, the manipulator in the situation. Since they've been together, neither has gone to bed without being fully devoured in every way by the other. She's never felt more wanted by anyone in her life, and the grin on her face seems permanent.

His phone rings, and he feels her stiffen beneath him, but with a tilt of his head, a thrust of his tongue, and a soft caress, he assures her he isn't going anywhere. At least, not yet.

She wraps her hands around his neck, holding him to her as she basks in what she knows is the last few minutes of their stolen time alone. When the ringing stops, she sighs into his open mouth and lets him sit up.

He pulls her up, then, too, sighing in regret and sadness, then brushes her hair back. "You scratched the fuck outta me," he laughs.

"You bit me," she shrugs.

"You deserved it," he laughs, then kisses her, and he gets out of the lumpy bed and pulls together his clothes. He turns, though, and watches her redress, watches her fingers dance along the fabric of her outfit, watches the material glide over her curves. He has to remind himself to breathe, which scares him for a moment, because it's been years...years...and he's still affected by her in serious ways.

"Keep staring," she chides, buttoning her last button. "Just make sure you tell the night crew to wipe the drool off the floor."

He scoffs, then laughs. "They already have to change the sheets," he says with a wink, and he leans toward her, hoping for one last kiss, but the opening of the door stops them and breaks them a few feet apart.

"Oh, you're awake," Dean says, nodding once at Elliot. "We got a phone call. Doc Warner." He looks at Olivia, looks at the flush of her face, the muss of her hair, and he smirks. "Did you ever even go to sleep?"

"Shut up," she hisses, pushing by him and heading down to the squad room.

Dean shakes his head and looks back at Elliot. "Man, you gotta be careful around here," he says in a harsh whisper. "Being involved with your current investi..."

"I know," Elliot sighs. "I know." He runs a hand down his face and pulls on his tie. "What did Warner want?"

"More extensive report came in from Rollins..." Dean pauses, he knows the subject is touchy, given Elliot's current situation. "Man, Rollins was three months pregnant."

* * *

><p>"I already told you," Olivia sighs, shaking her head, "I didn't know anything about her personal life. I made it a point not to...I never asked. We didn't talk to each other about..."<p>

"So she didn't know about Michael?" Dean asks, his eyes flashing as he speaks, lying for the benefit of anyone who might be beyond the glass.

Olivia bites her lip. "Look, I didn't know she was pregnant, or if she was seeing anyone. She didn't tell me, I didn't ask, end of story."

"Olivia," Dean narrows his eyes and leans forward, his hands flatten out on the table and his head tilts, "Does your captain know you're..."

"Dean," she interrupts, "I am not the subject of this investigation, so I suggest you change the topic. Now."

"I'll take that as a 'no," Dean straightens up, clears his throat, and says, "Look, I'm gonna give it to ya straight, Detective. We've got a dead cop, a room full of suspects, and we need you to tell us anything and everything you can before we have to bring them all back in here one at a time." He folds his arms. "Who are you protecting?"

"If you're so sure it's one of them," she begins, picking at her nails, "Get a court order for paternity tests."

Dean sits again, and he shakes his head. "Come on," he scoffs. "You and Rollins were a lot closer than you're letting on. I can see it in your eyes, Olivia. Don't forget...I know you. I know you better than you think I do, better than you ever wanted me to." He narrows his eyes and asks, "What's his name?"

"I don't know," Olivia says harshly, but she can't hide the tears in her eyes now. "If I did, I swear to God I would tell you. I had no idea she..." the slight waver in her voice stops her. She blinks. "You asked about Cragen, why would he..."

"He brought Rollins into this unit for a reason," Dean says, cutting her off. "A reason Elliot figured out, confronted him with, that he didn't deny." He shrugs. "Didn't really admit to, either."

Olivia's eyes narrow, and her hands drop to her stomach, the nausea suddenly overwhelming. "What?"

"Not that!" Dean barks. "She was part of a shakedown. Someone higher up in the pack of wolves found out Cragen had a hand in letting Jenna into this room with that gun. She was a bribe. He gives her a job, IAB doesn't pursue an investigation."

"Hold on!" Olivia yells. "Do you have any fucking idea what Elliot went through because he thought..."

"I do," Dean says, nodding. "Yeah. Why do you think we're here?" He took another breath. "Olivia, Rollins was sent here..."

"Cragen knew," Olivia whispered. "This was...Dean, are you telling me that Amanda was set up?"

Dean's eyes slip shut and he nods. "That baby belonged to someone who needed to get rid of it, and her, permanently. Cragen needed to make his problem go away, it was a fair trade. Cragen swears no one supposed to get hurt."

"Oh, no one except Jenna, and Elliot!" Olivia yells. She stands, angry now. "Amanda, her child! And what about me?" She shouts, but she turns a bit too fast and wobbles.

Dean catches her, and he looks into the glass mirror, his eyes wide.

Elliot bursts through the door, pulling her into his arms. "Hey," he whispers, trying to get her to focus. "Hey, you, look at me," he coos, stroking her hair back as she struggles to right herself.

"I'm fine, I just...I think I need to eat," she says, gripping his hands as they clutch her face.

Tucker runs in, just as concerned about Olivia as he is about what he's just watched and heard. "Is she okay? What the hell just happened in here?"

Elliot bites his lip, he looks up at his former sergeant and friend. "Eddie," he begins with a sigh. "She's pregnant."

**A/N: OH MY! And NO, this is NOT going to focus on her and the baby, but the parallels between life and the case will become more apparent, and more severe! **


	7. Protection

**A/N: Protection: guardianship; something used to keep another safe or secure; great care or defense of a thing or person**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters? Dick Wolf. This story? TStabler**

"Why didn't I know about this baby?" Tucker asks, squeezing the bridge of his nose, warding off the migraine he knows is fast approaching.

Elliot shakes his head. "She didn't even know," he says. "Not until...a few days ago."

"You made her coffee," Dean says with narrow eyes. "I watched her drink..."

"Yeah, I made her coffee," Elliot interrupts, folding his arms. "I had to make it for her because I knew it had to be decaf."

"How long?" Tucker asks, lifting his sore head. Not getting an answer, he yells. "How long, Elliot?"

"Three months!" Elliot yells back. "That's why she got so...upset in there. It had nothing to do with Amanda Rollins, she was thinking about...she saw the connection, that it could have been her if..."

"Are you sure?" Dean chimes in. "El, man, I know her. There's something she's not saying, something she's holding back, and it could really jeopardize this..."

"You don't know her at all," Elliot says, his voice low. His nostrils are flaring, he can feel the muscles in his chest tighten. "She wouldn't do that. She has never lied about an investigation, ever."

Tucker scoffs. "Unless it concerned you," he says.

"Not even then!" Elliot barks.

Dean takes a step forward, and he doesn't realize the mistake he's about to make. "Elliot," he says, resting a hand on his partner's shoulder, "What if she is this time?"

Turning fast, Elliot slams a fist into the wall just to the left of Dean's head. "She's not," he hisses. "She told you everything she knows, she told me everything...she wasn't even there. Do you honestly think she would stand by and let a killer go unpunished just because it's someone she trusted?"

Dean swallows hard, blinking fast. "She did everything she could to keep you from..."

"She knew I didn't do it!" he yells. "That wasn't protecting the guilty, that was keeping the innocent safe!" He narrows his eyes. "She almost turned you in, twice, remember? She was ready to hand over her own brother when it came down to it, man. She's a 'cold-hard-facts' kind of girl, and I swear to you, she's more anxious to catch the son of a bitch that killed Rollins than we are, because if it's a pattern, then she's next." He bites his lip and drops his hand, bits of plaster falling from his moving fingers. "She knows that."

Dean carefully moves away from the fresh hole in the wall, and he looks at Tucker. "So...maybe she's been telling us everything, what do we do now?"

"She gave you the fucking idea," Tucker hisses. "DNA from the..." he stops and he clutches his chest as he turns to look at Elliot. "I don't have any idea how you dealt with this as long as you did."

"I'd still be dealing with it," Elliot says, the anger fading only slightly, "If I wasn't set up. You gonna do anything about that?"

Tucker folds his arms. "Eventually," he says, "But right now...you need to question him again, you know that." He runs a hand down his face and clears his throat. "He's gotta tell you who told him to put Rollins on the books, and who really gave that gun to Jenna. Elliot, you need names. Someone was paid to rape and kill..."

"It's my case, Eddie. I know what I have to ask him," Elliot says, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wraps his fingers around the quarter, he squeezes, and he closes his eyes. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to tell Olivia."

"About what?" Tucker asks, sitting on his desk. "Why does she even..."

"Cragen," Elliot blinks. "He's like a father to her. He was, anyway. She heard everything he said to me and she couldn't even handle that, so telling her that he basically fed Rollins to the wolves on top of setting me up to kill a kid...it's like telling Eli there's no Santa Claus."

Dean rests his hand on the doorknob, turns it slightly, and says, "Then don't tell her. Finish this, close both cases, let her read the 'Fives." He opens the door and shrugs. "You said it yourself, man. She's a 'cold-hard-facts' kinda girl."

Elliot chuckles as he lets go of the coin, then turns his head to look at Tucker. "Are you gonna ask me?"

Tucker licks his lips. "You gonna pay to fix the wall?"

"Not that," Elliot laughs, stepping closer to his friend. "Ask me, Eddie."

"I've never been one to ask questions if I already know the answers," Tucker says, dropping his arms to his sides. "I would like to know when, though. You two weren't...I mean, were you...before you left?"

Elliot shakes his head. "It doesn't matter now," he says. "All that matters...is that I do my job, and the only way I can do that is if..."

"I can't let her leave, Elliot," Tucker interrupts. "In situations like this, they all come and go from here. You know that."

Elliot turns and he smirks. "Exactly," he says. "She'll shoot me if she finds out I'm asking you this, but...put her on a desk until we close this case. Please? If she's never out with any of them, then there's no chance..."

"Yeah," Tucker says, standing and cutting him off. "Makes sense. Go. Interrogate, investigate. I'll...I'll handle Benson. A very pissed off, pregnant, Benson." He rolls his eyes. "Stick around to investigate my murder, would ya?"

Laughing, Elliot slaps Tucker on the shoulder and leaves the room. Breathing a little easier, he walks down the hall, gets into the elevator, and closes his eyes, taking the time to think as he rides up. When he hears the ding, he opens his eyes, walks a bit faster, and passes by Fin and Olivia on his way into the interrogation room. He doesn't make it obvious, but he looks at her, and the smallest of smirks crosses his lips as he pushes into the steel room.

"What's up with him?" Fin asks, leaning a bit closer to Olivia. "He still looks at you like..."

"Like he's always looked at me," she interrupts. She takes a sip from the water bottle in her hands, and she smiles. "He still looks at you the same way, too. Like he wants to throw you off the roof."

Fin scoffs and plops into his chair. "Do you believe this shit?" he asks, holding up a letter. "Fuckin' court order for DNA. Look, you're still tight with him, right?"

Olivia nods, sitting in her own chair. "We're still close," she says, "Yeah."

"Can you talk to him?" Fin asks, leaning closer to her. "Just tell him I didn't..."

Olivia bites her lip, takes another sip of water, and it's a long moment before she answers him with closed eyes. "Fin, I can't..."

"Wait," Fin cuts her off. "You don't think I had anything to do with any of this, do you? Come on, you know me!"

Nick Amaro walks up to them, then. "Oh, don't feel too bad, there, Fin," he says. "She knows me, too, and she's not standing up for me, either."

"You both know nothing I say is considered solid!" she yells. "And, so you know, I didn't talk about either one of you. I answered what was asked, end of story. Don't think just because Elliot's running the show in there that I'm held in some kind of high regard. That's not how the FBI works!" She slumps in her chair. "Ask, Porter."

Fin closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Shit, I'm sorry," he says. "I guess if anyone would have...oh, hey, speaking of...you talk to Mike?"

"Ah," Nick laughs. "The infamous Michael. Yeah, it's weird, you haven't picked up the phone in a while. No giggly conversations in the corner since MacGyver and his crew of minions showed up."

Olivia raises an eyebrow. "Text messages," she says, tossing him her phone. "Try not to blush, huh?"

Nick scrolls through her phone, clears his throat, then hands it back to her. "He's, uh. he's one...lucky..."

"Hey!" Elliot's voice breaks their conversation. "Amaro, get your ass in here, now!"

"Ooh," Nick moans with a laugh, mocking Elliot as he straightens up and smoothes out his tie. "Something I do upset you, Agent Stabler?"

Elliot tightens his jaw, then releases it, rolling his neck a bit. "No, man," he says. "Just a few new questions for ya." He catches Olivia's eyes, he nods at her, and tries not to smile. He follows after Amaro, back into the room, out of sight.

"Where's Munch?" Fin asks, looking around.

Olivia yawns, reading through a file on her desk. "Out on a call with Riggs from Homicide." She shakes her head and starts clicking her pen, reading more intently. "Why?"

Fin shrugs. "Just seems funny to me," he says. "We're all holed up in this place until a call comes in, then we're escorted around by men in suits like the fuckin' president. I mean, if anything, they should all be up his ass."

"What? Why?" Olivia asks, dropping her file and her pen.

Fin looks at her, his tired eyes turned down. "Baby-Girl," he says with a lick of his lips, "Munch is the one that found her." He blinks and sits back. "You didn't know."

"No," Olivia says, standing as she realizes something terrifying and yet comforting. "I didn't." She grabs her water and says, "If anyone asks, I went to see Warner."

**A/N: *Screams at computer* NO! DON'T GO ANYWHERE ALOOOOONE! *Clears throat* Okay, so, what did she realize? And Amaro gives Elliot some answers. Next.**


	8. Instinct

**A/N: Instinct: a natural or innate impulse, inclination, or tendency.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters belong to Dick Wolf. TStabler© owns this story.**

The morgue is dark, gloomy, and colder than she remembers. It's too quiet and for the for the first time in roughly forty years, she can hear herself breathing. She looks around for Melinda as she walks further into the clinical looking room, but there's no sign of her. She keeps walking, her heels clicking on the hard floor, and for a moment she tenses, thinking someone might be following her.

She turns to look over her shoulder, and moves when she's satisfied that she's alone. She stops, though, when her eyes catch the latch of the metal drawer, the one she knows is housing the body of Amanda Rollins, and an overwhelming sense of guilt creeps into her heart, into her mind. She takes another step; her hand shakes as she reaches for the sliver bar, and she closes her eyes.

"Now, that's not a good idea," a voice from behind her makes her jump, and she knocks over a few tools as she backs into a tray.

Her eyes widen before she laughs and takes a much needed breath. "Hi, Mel."

Melinda smiles and says, "I hear congratulations are in order."

"Word travels fast," she grumbles, righting herself and trying to slow her still thudding heart. "I guess everyone knows, now."

"Does Michael know?" Melinda questions, moving slowly toward Olivia. "If you're afraid to tell him because of what happened to Rollins..."

"He knows," Olivia interrupts, folding her arms. "He's happy about it."

Melinda tries to smile but the exhaustion seems to make it look more like a grimace. "Good." She tries a little harder and the smile seems a tad more genuine. "It's what you wanted, right?"

The smile on her face betrays the deep contentment she feels as she shrugs. "I'm not complaining," she says.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" Melinda asks, dropping to pick up the fallen scalpel and scissors. "What do your maternal instincts tell you?"

"If I had any, I'm sure they'd tell me to wait six more months to find out," she says with a sigh. Then she clears her throat. "Melinda, listen," she begins, her eyes losing some of their light as she thinks of what she has to ask. "You found traces of spermicide but would that necessarily..." she stops herself. She blinks. "That would destroy all DNA, which would be present even if the perp couldn't..."

Melinda holds up a hand "I can't talk about this with you, Olivia."

Olivia clasps her hands, pressing her index fingers together and pointing them toward Melinda. "Just tell me if Munch is still a viable..."

"There's no way he fathered her child," Melinda interrupts.

"That wasn't my question," Olivia says, her eyes narrow. "Could he have done this? Would he have still needed spermicide even though he knew there wouldn't be any..."

Melinda holds up hand again, fast, shutting her up. She looks over her shoulder then lowers her voice. "It's possible," she says. "A good detective would know that DNA would survive in any expelled fluids, it would only be infertile but still traceable. Spermicide would compromise the evidence." She tilts her head. "Men with vasectomies leave trace evidence, too. Any cop would know that."

Olivia nods once, then bites her lip as she looks back at the metal drawers behind her. "It should have been me," she whispers.

"What?" Melinda spits harshly, slamming her tools back onto the tray. "I can't believe you said that."

Olivia turns to her with a small, guilt-laden smile. "I've been doing this job for a lot longer, I made more enemies, Mel. She didn't do anything to deserve that." She clears her throat and shakes her head. "So...um...they need to know what you just told me. So if you could just..."

"I will talk to Porter and Elliot," Melinda interrupts, nodding. "And I will include Munch in the tests, though I don't have much to go on." She sees Olivia nod, and then notices a strange look in her eyes. "Hey, are you okay? With Elliot here, I mean."

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? He's...Elliot," Olivia returns.

"Exactly," Melinda says with a knowing look. "For the first time in a long time, you're really happy. You've figured out how to live your life without him. I don't want him being around to make you second guess..."

"Trust me," Olivia interjects, "There's no way I will ever doubt the man I love, and this baby. Not even for Elliot," a small chuckle escapes with the lie as she gently touches her friend's shoulder. "Take care of her," she says, one last look back at the spot where she knows Amanda lies.

"You know I will," Melinda says.

Olivia nods again, then takes a breath and leaves the morgue. She can't shake the feeling that someone is still watching her, so she picks up the pace, and she reaches the elevator, slamming her hand over the call-button.

Her heart races a bit faster as she waits for the lift to arrive, and she struggles to breathe, feeling like she might pass out the way she almost did in the interrogation room. When the doors slide open, she falls forward, grateful to whomever it is that has her in their arms.

"Olivia?" the man holding her gasps, trying to get her to look up. "Hey, Olivia, come on, open those pretty brown eyes."

She flutters her eyes open, and she backs away fast, suddenly upright and alert. "Nick," she huffs. "What are you...I thought you were in..."

"They sent me down here to get a buccal swab," he says to her, and he reaches out a hand to brush her cheek. "I'm surprised they're not calling Maury Povich in to do this." His attempt at a joke falls flat, and he worries. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she says, flinching. "I'm okay. I just...I didn't eat, yet."

Nick bites his lip, hating that she's afraid of him now. "There's food upstairs. Your little friend had sandwiches delivered."

"My little fri..." she laughs despite her nerves. "Elliot? He's not...I mean, he's my friend, but...shouldn't you be getting off, here? Warner's probably waiting."

Nick nods. "You don't..." he stops, and he takes a breath. "Please, Benson," he whispers. "You don't have anything to be scared of. I know I've never really given you a reason to trust me, but I've never given you a reason not to, either. I swear...I didn't do this. I couldn't hurt her," he tells her, tears in his eyes. "You know that. Tell me you know that"

Her eyes close as the doors open again, stuck on the morgue's floor since no button was pushed. "I don't know what I know, anymore, Nick," she confesses, and her eyes open in time to see him wipe his.

"Well, hopefully, I'm about to prove it to you," he says, coughing as he steps off the elevator into the hall. "Go eat something," he says as he hears the ding. And just before the doors slide shut, he says, "Feed your baby."

Olivia's head falls back against the side of the elevator as she finally hits the button for the squad room floor. "Shit," she mumbles. She had kept her pregnancy to herself for a reason, promised Elliot she wouldn't say anything if he wouldn't, not until they were sure everything was okay. They didn't want to jinx it.

She takes another deep breath, trying to calm herself down, and feels the lift jerk and stop. The doors open and she isn't surprised at all to see him standing there, waiting. "Heard you bought us food," she says, stepping by him.

He falls into place right beside her as they walk. "I thought I told you...asked you...not to go wandering off by yourself."

"You've got every corner of this place secured with cameras and armed guards," she retorts. "Nothing was gonna..."

"Liv," he interrupts, taking her hand. "Please."

She presses her lips together, looks into his eyes, and she nods. "I'm gonna grab a..."

"Turkey and Swiss with everything, on your desk. Oh, um, there's an order of fries, with hot sauce and pickles, and some broccoli-cheese soup. And a bottle of orange juice."

She grins at him and her world is suddenly three shades brighter. "You really do know how to take care of a woman."

"I know how to take care of my woman," he corrects. "You. I've always known what you want. What you need. It's my job to..."

She lets go of his hand and clears her throat, seeing Munch and Fin heading toward them. "Yeah," she says, "So Melinda is gonna call you with a few new findings, Munch needs to see her, too, and...uh...Nick is with her now, so..."

"Right," Elliot nods, watching Olivia walk toward the food on her desk before turning toward Munch and Fin. "What?"

"What?" Fin scoffs. "Are you fuckin' serious? You know what you're doin' to all of us, don't you?"

Elliot folds his arms. "I'm trying to find a killer, Fin. Rollins was a member of your team, so your cooperation shouldn't even be an issue."

"We got jobs, man," Fin snaps. "Reputations! You realize that every case from now on, every trial, this will be thrown back at us? Fuckin' murder investigations look like shit on the jackets of good cops."

"Tell me about it!" Elliot seethes, his breathing growing harder as he leans toward Fin. "Try actually being guilty of it, then tell me how the fuck you feel!"

Munch slips between them, and he looks from one to the other. "Guys! Come on! I thought this ended! We're all working for the same side here, aren't we?"

"Oh, yeah," Elliot grits out, his knuckles cracking as he unclenches his fists. "Sure we are, Munch." He looks at the older detective. "Melinda needs to see you, so..." he nods once at Munch, then once at an agent a few feet away.

Munch looks at Elliot for a long moment, his eyes filled with regret and sadness, concealing the hurt behind them. "Right," he says, and he turns to walk with the agent toward the elevator.

"I thought he was already cleared," Fin huffs as he watches his partner being escorted away.

"No one has been cleared, Fin," Elliot says, his eyes flickering with anger. "Not even you. You still have one hell of a motive, and until we have the GPS records from your car..."

"Fuck you, Elliot," Fin says, cutting him off. He scoffs and pulls down on the hem of his shirt, then turns his head. "Hey, Baby-Girl," he says to Olivia, then tosses his coat onto his chair.

She grumbles something with her mouth full, then takes a gulp of her juice.

"Hungry?" he asks, laughing.

She nods, making a wide-eyed and exasperated face at him. "So hungry," she says with a breath before diving into her sandwich again.

Fin shakes his head at her before heading into the conference room to grab a sandwich.

Elliot, still watching Olivia closely, chuckles as he moves toward her and leans back on the edge of his old desk. "Easy there, tiger," he says. "You know what happens when you eat too fast."

She eyes him for a moment, swallows, then drinks some more of her juice. She takes a slow breath and says, "Right. I just didn't realize how hungry I was until I actually started eating."

He laughs at her again and he folds his arms. "We, uh, we got a name. While you were playing Ninja-Benson."

"Name?" she questions, swirling the cheese around in her soup. "Name for what?"

"Liv," he says, his voice now firm and serious, "I know who gave Jenna the gun."

**A/N: And? **


	9. Bound

**A/N: Bound: under a legal or moral obligation; destined; sure; certain; inseparably connected with; devoted or attached to.**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.**

"Liv!" he yells after her, following her fast as she races out into the hall. "Olivia! Stop!"

She either doesn't hear him or is ignoring him; her path is set and firm as she heads down the hallway. She's seeing red right now, because she is bound to him, bound to her job, and this was bound to happen once she found out who was ultimately behind her almost losing both.

"Olivia!" he yells again, this time in vain. He knows there's nothing he can say, nothing he can do. "Please?" he tries, hoping begging will appeal to her sense of pity, if she still has one.

They round another corner, and the target of Olivia's fury comes into view. She smiles politely just before her fist flies through the air to meet the face of the woman who essentially caused the death of a little girl and the end of Elliot's career.

"Jesus, Liv!" Elliot grumbles, grabbing her in hopes of keeping her from taking another swing.

The people in the hallway are watching, stunned, amused, but the woman who'd been punched is scrambling to her feet in horror. "What the hell, Benson?"

"You...how could you do this to him?" Olivia hisses. "To that...she was just a little girl, Alex!"

Alex Cabot's face falls, and every slip of skin on her body goes completely white but for the patch of skin below her eye, on her cheek, which is rapidly reddening and bruising where Olivia has hit her. "You know."

"Why?" Olivia barks, kicking and trying to pry herself out of Elliot's arms.

He runs one hand down her back, though, and she seems to calm. He presses his lips to her neck and closes his eyes. "Breathe," he whispers.

She takes his advice and takes a breath. "Tell me why."

"Cragen," Alex offers, bending to pick up the strewn papers that have been tossed in the blow. "He asked me...I refused...he said...he told me that it would it get me job back. You hated West and you know it."

"You got your job back," Olivia spits, tugging down her jacket. Tears spring to her eyes. "But you cost Elliot his! You cost that little girl her life, Alex! Did you have any idea that would all..." she pauses, seeing the look of recognition and slight guilt on Alex's face. "You knew."

"Haven't you ever done something for purely selfish reasons, Olivia?" Alex asks, her arms fall in defeat. "Haven't you ever once, in your entire life, just said screw everyone else, I want this, I don't care?"

"Yeah," Olivia whispers, nodding as she bites her lip, "But no one died, Alex. No one fucking died because I decided to get married! Jenna...Sister Peg...fuck, Elliot..." she can't form a coherent thought. She licks her lips and runs a hand through her hair. "Deal with her," she says, turning to Elliot, then she blows passed him and storms off, heading back toward the squad room.

Elliot turns to Alex, loathing in his eyes. "I have waited so damn long to do this," he says with a vile grin on his face as he grabs her arm. "Oh, by the way, I know about you and Judge Bradley. You can talk to me and my partner about that, too."

"Wait, partner?" Alex questions. "What? What the hell is..."

"FBI, Alex," Elliot interrupts. "You stepped in some pretty deep shit. It's a shame, too, because those are some nice shoes you're wearing." He chuckles as he leads her toward the squad room, hoping to get some closure and put one case behind him in order to focus on another.

* * *

><p>The squad room has been quiet since. Everyone's senses are heightened and they're all waiting for something to happen. When it doesn't, each person attempts to get some work done, but they're all watching the doors to the pit, wondering when an agent will walk out and yell, or when their captain will be carted out in cuffs.<p>

"Did I miss anything exciting?" Nick Amaro asks, finally walking back into the squad room. He waits for a response, then looks around at the tense faces of his colleagues. "I'll take that as a yes." He clears his throat and walks over to Olivia's desk, throws a file down on her desk, and says, "I told you."

She narrows her eyes as she lifts the manila folder into her hands. She opens it and reads it. then sighs and shuts it, tossing it back down. "Congratulations," she spits. "You are not the father."

"That's it?" Nick barks. "No apology? No hug? Are you serious?"

Olivia bites her lip and flicks the file closer to him. "You're not the father, that doesn't mean you didn't..."

"Fuck, Olivia!" Nick yells. "I didn't kill her! What's it gonna take for you to believe me?"

Munch walks in on the tail end of his rant and says, "Don't take it personally, Nick. She doesn't believe me, either, and she's known me a hell of a lot longer than you."

"Munch," Olivia begins with a sad roll of her eyes, "Please, that's not what...I just don't..."

"I get it," Munch interjects, and he sighs as he walks over to his desk and sits, his own test results in his hands. "I don't blame her. She's thinking like a cop. We all have motives, we all had the means and the opportunity. She's right to not fully believe any of us, and she's right to not fully doubt any of us." He turns and, though he's deeply hurt, he smiles at her. "It's okay, Olivia."

Olivia returns his slight smile, and she leans back in her chair. One hand falls to her stomach as she grimaces slightly and she looks around. "Tell me something, then. If all three of you claim you didn't do it, then who else could have..."

"We weren't the only ones at that warehouse," Amaro speaks. "We had TARU there to help us with the web cam tracing. We had a couple crime scene techs, there were a couple of uniforms." He folds his arms and shrugs. "The dingus with the pointy face talked to all of them, though."

"Pointy face?" Olivia laughs. "You mean Porter?"

Nick shudders. "Guy looks like he's sucking on a lemon. All the time. It's weird."

A loud crash disturbs their first somewhat friendly conversation in days, and Olivia is on her feet in seconds. Before anyone can stop her she runs toward the interrogation room, pushes her way into the pit, and stops in the entryway, seeing Elliot huddled over a knocked down filing cabinet.

"Okay," she says softly, "What did the big, bad drawer do?"

"Not now, Liv," he snarls, his jaw clenched and his whole body rigid.

She climbs over piles of files and bent metal, and she reaches slowly for his shoulders. He jerks when she touches him. "Easy," she coos, resting her palms on him. "Easy, baby." She squeezes once and feels him stiffen. She squeezes again and he's Jell-O. "What happened."

"Fucking...Cragen...Chief Bradshaw...fuck!" he spits, taking sharp breaths between words.

"All that sounded like was a porn flick I never wanna watch," she says, trying to calm him with humor. "Wanna try again?"

He chuckles only slightly, and takes another breath. He slams his fist into the wall and pushes his shoulder blades together, making his back crack and pop. "Cragen gave Rollins the job," he begins, "As favor to Chief Bradshaw." He closes his eyes and says.

"Wait, Bradshaw?" Olivia asks, stunned. "Elliot that man isn't gonna talk to you or Dean without..."

"I know," Elliot stops her, rubbing his forehead. "Shit! That baby was Bradshaw's. Bradshaw paid someone in this unit to..." he tightens his jaw again, his body stiffens, and all of the tension returns to his back and shoulders. " To get rid of the problem."

Olivia's brow furrows. "How do you know it was definitely..."

"We've been working on Cragen and Alex for the last two hours, Liv," Elliot sighs, finally turning to look at her. He slams his head backward into the wall, then pulls her into his arms. he lays her head on his chest and kisses the top of it. "I had to watch him cry...I had to act like I wasn't ready to cry right along with him...I can't believe this shit. I mean, Cragen...I thought of him like a father." He kisses her head again. "We both did."

"Well, you know I have rotten luck when it comes to fathers," she jokes.

He smiles and kisses her lips. "You light up my life, you know that? When there is darkness, the light is you."

"Stop quoting the bible at me," she says, elbowing him. "It's annoying."

"Hey," he defends, "I only have my faith, the kids, and you to keep me strong right now, so combining them all is really doing the job." He lifts her chin and grins at her, and leans in for a longer kiss. "How's my baby?" he whispers.

"Absolutely perfect," she whispers back, "For someone that's only about the size of a cocktail shrimp."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Stop reading that book, honey." He sighs and looks around. "Shit, I really gotta stop taking my anger out on the filing cabinets."

Olivia hums in agreement. "And lockers, and doors, and walls, and..."

"I get it, thanks," he intrudes, narrowing his eyes at her. He growls and kisses her, moaning against her lips. "I can't wait to finish this. So many things I wanna do to you."

"Why wait?" She wraps her arms around his neck with a small moan as she returns his kiss eagerly, and as his hands near the waistband of her pants, her cell phone rings. "Damn it," she hisses, ripping her mouth from his. "Better be the goddamned President," she mumbles.

Elliot laughs and wipes the corners of his mouth, trailing one finger along the hem of her slacks as he watches her answer the call. Then, he sees her turn white and look at him with wide eyes, and he straightens.

"Okay, yes, Sir," she says quickly, "I will...I will be right there." She clears her throat the taps a button to end the call. She sees the concern on Elliot's face and nods once. "That was...that was Chief Bradshaw. He wants to see me."

**A/N: WHA? **


	10. Authority

**A/N: Authority: the power or right to control, judge, or prohibit the actions of others; a person or group of people having this power, such as a government, police force, etc ; control or manipulation **

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.**

Olivia takes a breath then looks over her shoulder, making sure Elliot is behind her, out of sight but there. She raises a hand and knocks on Bradshaw's door, then tugs on her blazer, a nervous habit she's always had.

Just before the door opens, she fiddles with the middle button of her shirt, the bug Elliot and Porter fixed her with, and she grins at Bradshaw as he appears. "Hello, Chief."

"Detective Benson," the man says with a welcoming smile, opening the door wider, please come in. He looks around a bit, ensuring she's alone, then closes and locks the door.

Olivia hears the click and she turns. "Chief." she points to the door, "Did you just lock..."

"Shut up," Bradshaw hisses. He draws closer to her, he leans over to her, and he narrows his eyes. "You like your job, yeah?"

"No," she says dryly. "I spent almost thirteen years on a voluntary squad because the benefits are great and the chairs are comfortable."

Bradshaw chuckles. "You always were a firecracker, Benson," he spits, sitting. "You wanna keep your job?"

"You are just full of hypothetical questions, today," she says. "I'll save you some time. The egg, it still makes a sound, the doctor is the boy's mother..."

"Benson!" Bradshaw yells. "I'm not fucking around! Your old partner is digging around where he shouldn't be, and if you want to keep your job, you get him to stop."

Olivia folds her arms and narrows her eyes. "Is that a threat?"

"Of course not," Bradshaw says, his lips curling. "You find a way to get him to back off, get him to look a little harder at Tutuola for Rollins' murder. I'm sure he'll find blood on the jacket she was wearing that will match..."

"Wait one minute, Chief," Olivia cuts in. "Elliot already went over every piece of evidence, there was nothing on..."

"Tell him to check again!" Bradshaw yells, making her jump. His face is stone white, he was shaking with anger. "Damn it, just do what you're told! I have never had to tell an inferior to do something more than once, Benson. You are the most insipid and defiant pain in the ass...no wonder Cragen and Tucker had their hands full with you and Stabler!"

Olivia holds in the urge to yell back, and instead she takes a step forward. "They know about the baby," she says. "They ran paternity tests. When no one in the squad matched, they used CODIS, and they got a hit. You. Agent Porter's coming here, soon, with a few agents. They're not just digging, Chief, they know you have a motive."

"I'm prepared to tell them Amanda and I had a fling," Bradshaw says, pulling at his tie. "Who would fault me? She was a beautiful woman."

Olivia chuckles as she leans a little closer. "And," she says with a slight lilt in her voice, "They talked to Cragen...and Alex Cabot." She whispers, "They know."

Bradshaw smirks, he brings both hands up to his chin and cracks his knuckles, one by one, hoping to intimidate her. "Well, then," he says, "Someone's just going to have to convince them Cabot and Cragen are lying to strike some kind of deal, or protect each other."

"Me?" Olivia asks. "You want me to tell Elliot..." she laughs, then. "No one's gonna believe Cragen and Alex are..."

"Cragen offered her a way back into the unit," Bradshaw interjects. "Why did Cragen choose Alex? There were a hundred attorneys he could have given the gun and the chance to. Why did Alex take the chance, knowing the damage it would do? It fits. You can make it fit." Bradshaw stands, then, and he lifts a hand to brush an errant hair behind her ear. "These people hurt you, Olivia," he whispers.

"What are you doing?" she bites, backing up.

Bradshaw follows, stepping forward. He smoothes a hand down her arm, back up, and looks into her eyes. "Cragen betrayed your trust, he used your friend to take down your partner, make him a killer. This is your change to take everything away from them, the way they took everything away from you."

"You're crazy," Olivia hissed, swatting his hand away from hers. "I'm a cop. A good one. I'm after the truth, I am not going to lie for you."

Bradshaw tightens his grip on her then and looks her in the eyes. "Benson," he says, "If you go after the truth, I swear, you'll end up just like Amanda Rollins. You will never meet that baby." He narrows his eyes and lets her go. "You tell Stabler and Porter what I told you to tell them, or you'll be their next his case."

Olivia holds her breath as Bradshaw lifts his hand again, and she exhales as she watches him twist the latch on the lock. She shakes her head at him as she leaves his office, and she wonders momentarily if Amanda had been threatened, if she had known what Bradshaw was going to do and ignored it.

Elliot steps out from the nook in the hall, meeting her as she walks. "You okay?" he asks, taking her in his arms.

"No," she admits, hugging him back. "I don't think I am." She sniffles, but her eyes are dry. She holds onto him, feels her arms pull him tighter, but doesn't remember making the conscious effort to make it happen. "Did you hear..."

"Every word," he nods. "We got it. We're gonna nail the bastard to the wall, baby. We got him." He kisses her forehead and one hands moves from around her back to her belly and he caresses the tiny swell. "You're both totally safe. No one's gonna hurt you. You know that."

She nods into the crook of his neck, but because someone she once trusted had just said the words she was most afraid to hear, a very small part of her doesn't believe him.

* * *

><p>Olivia ignores the confused and worried glances from the rest of the squad when she returns to the bullpen. She sits at her desk and buries herself in paperwork, sipping her vegetable juice and keeping her head down. She can't bring herself to look at Cragen's office door, or at Amanda's empty desk. She refuses to look Fin in the eye, not after knowing she could have been a part of someone's pathetic attempt to frame him.<p>

When the squad room door slams open, all heads pop up, and Bradshaw stands in the entryway in cuffs, held tight by Elliot, like a bull readying to charge. "You," he huffs, aiming it at Olivia. "You don't know what you've done."

"My job," her simple answer flies, her head bows again, and the file in her hand shakes just slightly enough to go unnoticed by everyone except herself.

Bradshaw snorts and looks around. "You people think you've won," he laughs as Elliot kicks at his knees, prodding him forward toward the interrogation room. "I want my lawyer!" he yells. "And my IAB rep!"

"Tucker's in the pit," Elliot says, "And he's already heard the tape."

"Tape?" Bradshaw questions.

Elliot chuckles as the voices fade, carrying off into the hallway.

"He's really full of himself, huh?" Nick quips, squeezing a stress ball that belonged to Amanda.

Without looking up from her file, Olivia says, "Most cops are." She hums as she flips the pages. "That kind of power? A badge and a gun, that gives a person a complex."

"Didn't give you one," Nick fires back, tossing the ball in the air and catching it.

"Yeah it did," Olivia answers, finally looking at him. "I just had a lot farther to climb than most people." She looks at the ball and she smiles. "You all got cocky and arrogant," she says, taking the purple, rubber ball from him.

"Hey!" Nick whines.

She squeezes it once and tosses it into the air. She catches it and says, "I just gained enough confidence to finally think I wasn't worthless. I got a long way to go before I reach cocky. I'm not like most cops."

"What does that mean?" Nick asks, folding his arms.

Olivia rolls the ball in her hand. "I'm here for a much different reason than you, Nick. That's all you need to know."

"What did he say to you?" Nick asks, leaning toward her. "Because this is as deep as you've gotten since we've met."

She laughs and throws the ball back to him. "He just made me realize that if left unchecked, power can go to your head." She narrows her eyes and shakes her head before turning back to her file. "Don't let it happen to you."

Nick watches as her pen glides effortlessly across her paper, and he tilts his head when her B looks more like an S. He shakes his head then looks at her face, and he sees a hint of a smile. "What's that about, Benson?"

"Huh?" she asks, her head popping up.

"You almost smiled, and I wanna know what's so funny," he says, poking her in the shoulder.

She drops her pen, and she looks at him. "Just thinking about...why I became a cop." She shrugs and shakes her head. "I'm pregnant, and it...for the longest time, I just didn't think...it was a big part of why I was such a fighter." Her smile grows a bit and she looks at Fin. "Speaking of babies," she sais, shifting in her seat, "Fin, I have to talk to you about something."

The phone on Fin's desk rings, then, and he holds up a finger.

At the same moment, Elliot walks out of the interrogation room, shaking out his fist with a vile look on his face. He hit something, or someone, very hard, and he seemed to be pleased with himself.

Olivia turns to him and tilts her head, her eyes low and her lips tighten. She looks like a mother, catching her son playing ball in the house after repeatedly being told he couldn't.

He can't help but laugh at the look on her face, and knowing it's safe, he mouths, "I love you."

Despite her annoyance at him, she chuckles and rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, hold on," Fin says into the phone. "Hey, Baby-Girl..." he pauses to hold the phone out to her. "It's Michael."

Olivia's face goes white, she turns to look at Elliot, and she swears she can hear every nerve in her body scream.

Because Michael doesn't exist, he's a cover, and the person he covers for is looking right at her.

**A/N: who could possibly be on the phone?  
><strong>


	11. Knot

**A/N: Knot: an interlacing, twining, looping, etc., of a cord, rope, or the like, drawn tight into a knob or lump, for fastening, binding, or connecting two cords together or a cord to something else.**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue and plot of this story.**

Olivia takes the phone hesitantly, looking at the smirk on Fin's face. She looks back at Elliot as she speaks. "Hey," she says casually, keeping up appearances. She raises an eyebrow as she listens to the voice on the other end. "Okay," she mutters, leaning over and pulling open her bottom drawer.

Elliot moves closer, his arms folded. "What's that?"

She holds up a hand, telling him to shut up. "I'm listening," she says into the phone, opening the envelope. What she sees inside stuns her, and she lets the yellowish-brown package fall to her desk. "Yeah, I…I'll call you later. Bye."

Fin chuckles as he takes the phone back from her. "No 'I love you'?" he asks.

Olivia smiles. "He knows," she says, looking toward Elliot.

Elliot grins back at her. "So, uh, what's in the…" he waves a finger at the envelope.

"Oh," she says, picking it up. "It's for you, actually. I forgot I had it. Just…came to mind when…when I was on the phone." She hands him the envelope and watches as he looks inside, his eyes widening, then narrowing.

Nick runs a hand across his head, then looked at Elliot. "So, uh, Agent Stabler," he spits, almost condescendingly, "What's up with the Chief?"

"I can't discuss an open investigation," Elliot says stoically. "Especially not with suspects."

Fin slaps the edge of his desk. "Man, I thought we were officially off the list!"

"I know none of you were romantically involved with Amanda Rollins," Elliot says louder, trying to keep his temper in check. "Her rape and murder? That's all still up in the air. One of you was paid off by Bradshaw, we know that! But he's not giving up the name." He looks back at Olivia. "Not until he talks to you again."

She's out of her seat instantly, heading toward the pit, but he grabs her arm. "What the hell are you…"

"Not so fast, Benson," he says with a half-assed attempt at an angry glare. "We need to talk about this first." He holds up the envelope as he tugs on her arm, leading her out into the hallway. "Who was on the phone?" he whispers, pressing her against the wall once they're out of sight.

"Don't know," she says, her breathing tight as his closeness gets to her. She tries to stop her hands from moving, but she loses the fight, and she twists her fingers in his belt loops. "He just told me not to say anything, and that I would find that badge and gun in my desk." She tangles her knuckles in the fabric of his slacks. "The gun's Amanda's. Your murder weapon."

He keeps the desire to kiss her bogged down and flips her hair out of her eyes with one of his fingers. "No idea who it was, then?"

"I know it wasn't Michael," she says as she tugs on his waist, "He isn't real."

He chuckles and leans a bit closer to her. "Come with me," he whispers. "We'll go see Morales. We'll watch the tapes. See who put…"

"After I talk to Bradshaw," she interrupts, looking into his eyes. She's determined, though her stomach is in knots, the man's threat echoing in her ears.

He lets his head fall, resting against hers. "You don't have to," he tells her. "There's blood on the badge. There could be prints on the gun. Liv, you don't…"

"You know you're not getting prints," she says, interrupting him again. "But take it down to the lab. See whose blood it is, El." She blinks, and she breathes. "You and I both know I have to talk to him, or he won't cooperate."

He kisses her forehead and closes his eyes, his right hand sweeping down her body as his left clutches what he knows is the missing murder weapon. "Take Dean in with you. Don't listen to anything Bradshaw says. And, baby, please…"

"I'm not gonna hit him," she says, rolling her eyes.

He chuckles as he backs away. "I was gonna say…just tell the guys. About me," he tells her, kissing her lips lightly. "Dean knows, eventually I'll have to tell my director."

"I can wait," she says, kissing him again. "I don't want you to risk your job for me. Not again."

He smiles at her and kisses her forehead. "I will be back as soon as…"

"Just go," she says, stopping him. With another kiss, he's gone, down the hall toward the elevator. She takes a deep breath and heads back into the squad room, then gives everyone a careful look as she turns into the pit. She sees Dean, waiting by the door, and she folds her arms.

Dean shakes his head. "I didn't think he'd really let you…"

"He doesn't have to let me do anything," she says with a wide-eyed glare. Then she relents. "He wants you in there with me. He trusts you with me. God knows why, but he does."

Dean smiles at her as he reaches for the silver knob of the interrogation room door. "You know why," he says. He opens the door, waiting for her to walk into the stark, cold room, then follows. "Detective Benson," he says, "As you requested."

Bradshaw looks up, training his eyes on Olivia. "Hello, sunshine," he grunts.

His icy stare sends chills down her spine, the slimy smile on his face makes her stomach lurch, and she turns slightly, covering her mouth as she leans against the mirror for support.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" Bradshaw asks, the chuckle in his words isn't hidden.

"Morning sickness," Olivia mumbles. She swallows back the nausea and the fear and she blinks once before turning to him. "Agent Stabler said you wanted to talk to me."

"Alone," Bradshaw sneers, eyeing Dean.

"That's not gonna happen," Dean scoffs, sitting. "Just pretend I'm not here."

Bradshaw rolls his neck and cracks his knuckles. "Sit down, Detective," he says to Olivia. "And stop looking so nervous."

Olivia sits, one hand draped over her stomach and the other on the table. She drums her fingers, finding it hard to be calm around Bradshaw, even though Dean is there, and Tucker is just beyond the glass.

* * *

><p>Elliot paces back and forth as Morales winds back tape after tape, hoping to see someone near Olivia's desk. "Fin was called in for backup, he was alone with her, he had motive. He thought she was replacing Olivia and he couldn't handle it." He bites his left thumb nail. The ring on that hand catches in the light and it makes him smile. "Nick was her partner, though, he was alone with her all night. His motive? He was falling for her but he's married with a kid. He wanted to rid himself of the temptation." He drops his arms to his sides. "If Bradshaw even suggested this to either of them…"<p>

"Agent Stabler," Morales says, cutting into Elliot's rant. "I got something here."

Elliot moves toward the slick techie and his computer, and his mouth drops open. "Are you…can you zoom in?"

"I can get a clear view up the man's left nostril for you, Elliot," Morales says, "But it's not gonna change anything. It's him. It's a clear shot."

"Shit," Elliot hisses running out of the TARU doors. He bolts down the stairs, knowing the risk of waiting for the elevator, and he picks up speed as he punches through to the SVU floor. He nearly knocks people over as he runs, and he ignores the angry and surprised yells as he storms through the bullpen and into the interrogation room.

Three heads turn to him, watching as he huffs and puffs, his face red with anger and heat. "Well, well, well," Bradshaw chuckles, "Now it's a party."

"I thought you were in the lab?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.

Elliot points, still not able to breathe. "You…you…" he took a gasping breath. "You!"

"You're the one that called me? Dean, you put that envelope in my desk?" Olivia asks, standing. "The badge...the gun...how..." she stops, feeling sick again.

Dean's eyes widen, "How did you…" he sighs. "Yeah. They were gifted to us yesterday. I promised I wouldn't say who they were from so I had to…"

Bradshaw interrupts him. "You gave them…where did you even get them? I want my lawyer!" He yells.

Dean's eyes go from wide to barely open slits. "Your lawyer isn't coming," he says. "I called him twice." He shakes his head. "Besides, he's the one who gave me your concealed evidence. I guess you know where his loyalties lie, Bradshaw. You can do yourself a favor, give us a name, or we can just wait until we have a hit on the blood and prints…"

"You're not gonna find prints," Olivia cuts in. "Killer wore gloves, remember?" She leans over and says, "We know the registration is gonna come back to Rollins. Restrained with her own cuffs and shot with her own gun." She looks at Elliot. "Whose badge was it?"

Elliot bites his lip and shakes his head. "I need him to tell me…"

"Elliot!" she yells. "Amanda had her badge on her hip when she…" she stops and shakes her head. Then she looks at Bradshaw, the fire and passion of a mother burning in her eyes. She feels her body tighten, and she feels herself pulled, as if by an invisible rope, toward Elliot.

Bradshaw can't help but stare at her as she moves; he's afraid and turned on and curious. "You okay, Benson?"

"She was pregnant," Olivia hisses. "With your child. Your flesh and blood." She feels a tightness in her heart twist and turn, proving that like it or not she is irrevocably attached now, to Elliot, to the life they created together, and its knotted and matted and woven its way into every aspect of her life. She relates to victims on a deeper level now, and she understands what Elliot meant when he used to say she wouldn't understand until she was a mother.

"Yeah," Bradshaw snorts. "So?"

Olivia shakes her head. Her nostrils flare and she slams both hands onto the table, making Bradshaw flinch. "You were man enough to get her in trouble, but not man enough to get rid of the problem yourself, huh? Couldn't look into her eyes as you killed her and the child you were responsible…"

"I knew I couldn't get away with it!" Bradshaw yells, standing.

Elliot steps in front of Olivia, his arms shielding her, though she isn't in danger. "Easy, pal."

Bradshaw blinks, then he sighs and sits. "I knew I would never be able to get her alone, away from one you, and I knew that…I'd be careless. I would have left something behind."

"So you hired someone who would be around her anyway," Olivia says through gritted teeth. "Someone she trusted."

Bradshaw nods and says, "Someone who would know the ins and outs, how to leave the scene without leaving any evidence behind." He shakes his head and says, "He came to me the next morning, said he needed a new badge. I took the old one, and his gun, and gave him replacements." He shrugs and looks at Porter. "I gave them to my lawyer, who apparently gave them to you."

"Even pond scum like Trevor Langan won't hide evidence for a cop killer," Elliot sneers, shaking his head. "So who was it?" he asks. "Fin or Amaro."

Bradshaw shakes his head as he leans back in his chair. "You two," he says, waving a finger between Olivia and Elliot. "You knocked her up?"

"One last time," Elliot snaps, "Who killed her? Fin or Amaro?"

Bradshaw looks at him, then at Olivia. He knows he's got no way out, and he has no choice. He answers them. But the gunshots from out in the squad room drown him out, and suddenly his answer is the last thing on anyone's mind.

**A/N: SAY WHAT?**


	12. Heresy

**A/N: Heresy: any belief or theory that is strongly at variance with established beliefs, customs, etc. the willful and persistent rejection of any article of faith by a baptized member of the church.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters belong to Dick Wolf. This story belongs to TStabler.**

"What happened?" Elliot yells, his gun raised and aimed.

Munch, his own gun in the air, trained on one of the limp bodies on the cool tiled floor, answers. "Two unis came in," he says, one eye twitching behind his glasses. "Asked where Bradshaw was, then they just started shooting."

"Oh, my God," Olivia gasps, running toward her desk. She kneels, clutching the bleeding shoulder of the man propped up against the metal. "Nick," she whispers, "You're gonna be okay." She looks up and around, stunned. "Did anyone call a bus?"

Above the shouts and mumbles, Elliot's eyes are searching the room. It's a painfully familiar sight, Olivia clinging to a barely breathing colleague, shocked and scared faces surrounding him. And then he notices. "Where's Fin?"

"He ran," Munch says with a firm nod. "The second shooter took off, Fin ran after him. They're out there somewhere."

Elliot turns to look at Dean, then looks down at Olivia. "I'll be right back," he says firmly, looking into her eyes, then jerks his head, motioning to Dean to follow him.

Leaving Bradshaw in Tucker's hands, they leave the room in pursuit of the second shooter and Fin, hoping they're both alive, and ready to give up some serious answers.

Munch kicks the foot of the cop he'd shot, then kneels beside Olivia. "We called a bus, yeah," he says, finally answering her. He lifts a hand and wipes the tears that are falling from her eyes. "You okay?"

"No," she says as she sniffles. "None of this is okay." She looks down again. "You hang on, you hear me?"

Nick moans, dropping his head to the side. He turns his eyes, slowly and painfully, toward her. "Hey, Benson," he whispers, allowing his head to drop into her.

"You're gonna be okay," she says softly. She looks back up and shakes her head. "How did this happen?"

Munch sighs and stutters, trying to explain. "It happened so fast," he recalls. "These two rookies came in, looked around, asked Nick where Bradshaw was." He takes a breath as he sees Nick coughing as Olivia's clutching him. He shuts his eyes; Elliot isn't the only one that remembers. "He told them Bradshaw was in interrogation, and before anyone could so much as blink, one of 'em shot Nick, the other starts firing at the walls and the floor."

With a shiver and a sigh, Olivia looks up, relieved to see the EMTs rushing into the room with a stretcher and a bag. "Over here!" she shouts, getting their attention. She moves and stands, watching helplessly as they work with Nick, and she wraps her arms around herself, holding her stomach. "Why?"

"They knew," Munch says, shaking his head. "Bradshaw always has a plan B, and they were..."

"A distraction," Olivia says, realizing. She heads for the interrogation room, Munch follows closely, and she's again relieved to see Bradshaw still sitting, cuffed, staring at Tucker. Her hands go back to their place around her belly, and she blinks, letting more tears fall. "He didn't wanna believe any of this shit, ya know."

"Who?" Munch asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Elliot," she says, clearing her throat. "He told me that considering any of you guys a suspect in this...it felt, to him, like Heresy." She chuckles a bit and continues. "He believed in everyone in this unit, trusted every single person with everything he had, until that night...until Jenna..."

"We let him down," Munch shrugs, resting a hand on her shoulder.

She shakes her head and looks at him. "Not all of you," she says. "Just the ones that really hurt. Cragen, Alex...you."

"Me?" he asks, surprised.

She nods and sniffles again. "You've known, John," she says, "The whole time. You could have stopped this a long time ago. Nick's on his way to Mercy, barely breathing...Fin and Elliot are probably halfway to Brooklyn looking for a man who's long gone...and it could have all been avoided if you would have just said..."

"I'm a month away from retirement, Olivia," Munch interrupts. "Bradshaw could have severed my pension in seconds if I said anything." He struggles with his voice, verging on cracking and crying, and he takes off his glasses. "I didn't really believe it, at first, either, so..."

"You didn't want to take an innocent man down without proof," Olivia finishes, understanding. "We've all been there." She gives him an endearing look and she rubs a circle over her stomach. "You could say something now, though. You could..."

"Why?" Munch asks, cutting her off. "Bradshaw already told you, I mean, look! Tucker's making him write everything down!"

Olivia blinks. "Bradshaw gave up a name, but you...you owe it to Amanda, Munch."

"I do?" he questions. "Or you think I do because you do," he accuses. "You feel guilty, don't you? Well, ya know what? So do I. I found her and I...I panicked and...then it all hit me. Everything clicked, and I knew. I knew who, and I knew why, and I knew that I needed to stay the hell out of it. I knew Elliot would figure it all out anyway. Without me."

"Without you," she repeats, narrowing her eyes. "And you wonder why he doesn't call any of you anymore." She scoffs and looks back toward the glass. "He had the right idea."

"Not trusting us?" Munch asks, feeling worse now than ever.

"No," Olivia says. A sigh escapes as she closes her eyes. "Leaving."

Munch's eyes remain fixed on her as she backs away from the glass and heads out into the destroyed squad room. He closes his eyes and shouts her name, but she doesn't turn back, and he fears she's gone. For good.

* * *

><p>The silence that permeates the room now, after the commotion is quieted and Nick is no longer bleeding out in front of Olivia's desk, is almost deafening. She has just hung up the phone after talking to an annoyed-sounding nurse at Mercy General, and the relief she feels at knowing Nick is going to be just fine doesn't calm her down at all. She's still shaking, she's still worried.<p>

She has yet to take her eyes off of the main entrance, her fingers knot themselves over the gold pendant around her neck, the one that reminds her to be fearless. She scoffs, because she's terrified right now. "Oh, my God," she breathes, her lungs finally taking in the most air she's allowed herself to inhale, as she rises from her seat and runs over to Elliot.

He closes his eyes as he holds onto her, his arms wrap around her tightly and he buries his head in the crook of her neck, lifting her off of her feet just a bit. "We got him," he whispers into her ear.

She nods, but she doesn't really care about that. All she cares about is him, alive and unharmed, with her. She backs away from him and searches his eyes, then crashes her lips into his, disregarding the crowded squad room staring at them.

His hands move, fisting the waves in her hair, and he moans against her lips. Not a sexual moan, not a frustrated one, but something caught between pain and relief. He tries like hell to pull her closer, but she's as tight against him as she can get. "I love you," he says, brushing his nose against hers as he breaks their kiss.

She sniffles, the third time she's cried today, damn hormones, and she smiles. "I love you," she tells him. "So much." She tugs on his tie, straightening it, and asks, "Where's Fin? What happened out there?"

Elliot puts her down gently and bites his lip. "Fin…Fin took the asshole down to holding." He says, then raises both eyebrows. "This whole time, baby…we had him the whole time, we just never considered…" he shakes his head and looks down at her. "I knew, though. I knew he probably…"

"I know you did," she interrupts. "And I know it killed you." She runs her hand through his hair and tilts her head. "You should go down to…"

"Dean went to go get him," he cuts her off, kissing her cheek. "Cragen. Damn. He's really not who I thought…"

General mumbles from the unit rise to a higher pitch, and Munch interrupts Elliot's speaking. "What happened? The whole story. I think I have a right to know."

"Bradshaw found out Cragen was the one who set me up, the one who got Alex to give Jenna the gun," Elliot says, interjecting.

Olivia presses her lips together, hating hearing it all, but knowing it needed to be said. She links her fingers with Elliot's and pulls him toward her desk, waiting for him to continue.

Elliot sits, surprising Olivia, the crowded room, and even himself as he pulls Olivia into his lap. "Cragen gave Amanda the job, hoping it would be enough of a payoff to Bradshaw for him to keep his job, but then…Bradshaw figured he could use Cragen to really get rid of his problem. They agreed to keep their mouths shut, and both incidents were swept under the table."

Munch leans forward a bit and drops his head into his hands. "Why did he call you, though? I mean….I knew…I knew it was Cragen….he called you to make the case look legit, but…why you? He knew you'd go after your own case first, and he knew you'd figure it out and get him eventually."

He bites his lip and says, "Cragen was planning to use me…again…to work this case, thinking I would push hard enough to make the case against Nick or Fin." He nods at Olivia. "Because he knew I would do anything to protect her." He looks back at Munch. "That's what initially made me think he was hiding something. He told me to stay with her, never let her out of my sight, trying to make me believe she was next on the list of someone working with her."

"Amanda was the only vic," Munch says, "The only target. Man, nothing about this makes sense." He scratches his head and then he smiles. "Well, one thing does."

"What?" Elliot asks, cradling Olivia's head against his chest, his eyes closed.

"You two," Munch says with a clear firmness. "You're Michael, that's your kid in there. Right?"

Olivia's head pops up and her eyes widen, as if she is only now realizing what they've been doing for the last ten minutes. "Uh…"

"Case is closed, Liv," Elliot says with a smile.

She turns to Munch and says, "Yeah. It's been Elliot. The whole time."

Fin walks back into the room, then, getting their attention as his heavy steps clomp along the tile. He grunts, tossing his gun and badge on his desk, and he runs his hands over his face. "This day," he mumbles, "Is complete shit."

"Yeah," Elliot nods, kissing Olivia's forehead. "Couldn't agree more."

"How's Nick?" Fin asks, looking at Olivia, either ignoring or not caring about her position on Elliot's lap. "He okay?"

Olivia nods. "He's fine," she says. "Bullet missed his heart, but he'll be in a sling for a few weeks. He's…he's okay."

"Good," Fin says, sitting. Then his eyes glaze over and he shakes his head. "Who the hell was he, man?" he asks no one specifically. "Cragen…how could he…do all of this?"

"Jealousy, greed, fear," Elliot lists. "The usual motivators and stressers for this kinda thing."

"Stop talkin' like a fuckin' Fed, Elliot," Fin snaps. "This is Cragen! Our captain! The man responsible for keepin' all of us out of fuckin' trouble, the man who got himself in hot water tryin' to save our asses, I mean, fuck, he thought of you as his daughter!"

"I still do," a meek voice from the doorway says.

Heads turn, eyes drop. Cragen is nestled between Dean Porter and another armed agent, his wrists tightly bound behind him. "I do," he says with a nod. "Please, I…Elliot, I will tell you everything." He closes his eyes. "Everything."

Elliot looks at Fin, then Munch, then finally Olivia. He kisses her and nudges her up so he can move, and he rises out of the seat. He takes a few steps toward his partner and their suspect, but he turns around. "I can't stop thinking like an agent, Fin," he says. "If I do that, then…then the feelings get in the way, and I can't do my job."

"So, what, this case closes and you leave again?" Fin barks. "Just go right back to not even acknowledging we exist, nor trusting us?"

Elliot takes a deep breath. "Yeah," he says with a single nod.

"And what about her?" Fin snaps, pointing to Olivia. "You just gonna leave her here alone again?"

Elliot looks at Olivia, then back at Fin. "Of course not," he says, turning back toward the interrogation room. "She's coming with me this time."

**A/N: GULP!**


	13. Save

**A/N: Save: to rescue from danger or possible harm, injury, or loss; to keep safe, intact, or unhurt; safeguard; preserve; to keep from being lost**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue and plot of this story.**

Watching Cragen from behind the glass, Elliot shakes his head. He turns and sighs, looking at Ed Tucker. "This isn't...he's obviously lying."

"What?" Tucker questions, squinting.

Elliot waves his hands in front of him, gesturing at the distraught and disgraced captain. "I can see him trying to get rid of me, I understand him getting that gun to Jenna and what he did to me...but he...he's not a killer. Not when...not like that."

"So what are you saying?" Tucker asks, raising an eyebrow. "You think..."

"I think Fin was right!" Elliot interrupts, turning sharply and folding his arms. "Cragen, despite his anger at what I've become and his need to get me out of his hair, thinks of the people in that unit as his kids. I was his son, once upon a time, and he stuck his ass in lot of hot water for me. He'd take a bullet for any one of them." He shakes his head and sighs again. "He's covering for someone." He raises an eyebrow. "I doubt it's Amaro," he says.

Tucker scratches at his head and tilts it toward the glass. "You think he's taking the fall for Tutuola, then? Why would he do that?"

"I don't know," Elliot says, biting his lip. "All I know is...the unit...used to be a family. Now..." he pauses and he looks at Tucker for a long moment. "You know she's leaving, don't you?"

"So you said," Tucker replies, a sigh of his own escaping. "Once this blows over, Elliot, things will..."

"Things in that room will never be the same," Elliot snaps, his brow furrowing. "The lies...the deceit...the fact that someone in that room killed a woman in cold blood, raped her and watched her die. All this after the man in charge paid a lawyer, a friend, to get a gun to a victim and..." he licks his lips and throws a hand against the wall. "Damn it, Eddie! Cragen set me up! My wife's best friend helped him do it! Fin raped and killed a good cop! Shit, a woman who was gonna have a baby! Munch fucking lied about it all, and all roads lead back to Chief Bradshaw, who's supposed to be the one that keeps this shit from happening!"

"Calm down!" Tucker calls, hoping to settle him.

"Don't you dare!" Elliot shouts, turning. "Calm down? Really? After everything that's happened you want me to calm down?" He laughs and runs a hand down his face. "The only people I've ever trusted let me down. All but one! The same people...the only family my wife has ever really known...betrayed her, too. She's leaving because..." he grimaces as he thinks of the words that were once thrown at him. "When you can't trust your partner, it's time to get a new one. We can't trust anyone in this place anymore."

Tucker is quiet for a full minute, then he breathes, and then he takes a step toward Elliot. "So, what, you don't trust me, either?"

"Did you have any idea about any of this?" Elliot asks, his voice quiet, his eyes burning into the glass as he stares at Cragen. "Eddie, did you know..."

"I would have done something," Tucker interrupts. "I swear to you, Elliot, I would have told you. Shit, I would have stopped it if I could."

Elliot shakes his head and moves toward the door. "You put me and Liv through hell for years," he says, not turning around. "Funny how, once I'm gone, that suddenly doesn't matter and the friendship we once had comes back full swing." He looks over his shoulder. "You sure you wouldn't have kept your mouth shut if it meant getting me back in your corner?"

"You're paranoid," Tucker hisses. "Of course not. Whatever shit I put you through had nothing to do with...it wasn't personal, it was all because of the job! Shit, you know that. Once a Marine, always a Marine, Elliot. Brothers first."

Elliot nods once at him as he turns the knob. "Right," he says, closing his eyes. "She's still..."

"I'm sure she is," Tucker interjects. "You get everything you can out of him, Elliot. No matter what he says, or who he pins this on, I'm with you."

Elliot offers him a small smile, then pushes open the metal door, praying that whatever Cragen says to him will be the truth. He's ready to close this case and put it, and the entire Sixteenth Precinct, behind him.

Cragen lifts his head as he hears the door open, his dry, blank eyes stare into Elliot's and he shrugs. "What more do you want me to say?"

"Just one thing," Elliot says, sliding a shiny, gold badge over to Cragen. "His name." He sits and says, "I have no problem charging you with conspiracy, blackmail, tampering with evidence, obstructing a federal investigation, and accessory to murder, but...I'm not charging you with rape and murder if you didn't commit the crimes." He tilts his head. "See, I'm not exactly like you."

Cragen exhales slowly, then says, "You got me, you got Alex, and you got Bradshaw."

"I want the man who killed Amanda Rollins," Elliot says, his jaw clenched. "Who are you protecting?"

Cragen flicks the badge and it slides over to Elliot. "You already know, don't you?"

Elliot bites his lip and leans forward, glaring at Cragen. "I need you to say it. Don't go down for this, it's not worth it."

"I'm responsible!" Cragen yells. "I should have stopped it! I should have done something as soon as Bradshaw told me why Rollins needed to be in this unit!"

"But you didn't!" Elliot shouts back. "You didn't, and now Amanda and her child are dead! You owe it to them to put the man who did it away! No matter who it is!" He narrows his eyes and lowers his voice. "You always said we don't get to pick the vic. We don't get to pick the perp, either. Just tell me, so Liv doesn't have to go through this again."

"What does this have to do with Olivia?" Cragen asks, his eyes suddenly shifting.

Elliot grins, knowing he's pushed a button. "Her father...her biological father was a rapist," he says. He points at Cragen and he says, "Please, don't let her walk away from this thinking the man who really was a father to her is one, too."

Cragen closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. "Elliot, please. Don't make me say it. If I say it, then it becomes real, and I can't...I can't deal with that."

Elliot takes a pen out of his pocket and opens the cover of a notebook that had been lying on the table. "Write it down, then," he says, handing the pen to Cragen. "Everything. Start with when you decided to give Alex that gun, work your way up to Monday morning, when Munch told you he found Amanda."

Cragen clicks the pen and he clears his throat. "I never meant for..."

"I don't care," Elliot interrupts. "Just write." He leans back and folds his arms, and as he looks at Cragen writing, he realizes the man he'd known is not the man in front of him now. It kills him, but he hides the emotions as he waits for the finished confession, taking comfort in the fact that Cragen's heart still bled for Olivia and there is still some humanity left in the former captain.

Cragen remains unaware that while he signs the papers that will end his career, someone just beyond the interrogation room walls is doing the same exact thing.

* * *

><p>She looks down at the last page of the packet in her hands, and she reads each word. Somewhere in the back of her mind she hears the funeral march playing, somewhere else she hears a bugle blowing TAPS, and yet somewhere else a tiny voice begs her not to sign on the angry-looking line.<p>

She bites her lip as she puts pen to paper, and she closes her eyes as, for the first time on anything work-related, she writes out her full legal name. She drops the pen and the hand that betrayed her runs through her hair as she clears her throat. A shaky breath passes between her lips and she stands, turning toward the wall of small lockers on the far wall.

It feels as though she's walking in slow motion, but she's running. She raises her hand to the latch, and she opens the metal door, smiling. She remembers the first moment she opened it, the first time she tossed her gun into it in a fit of anger. She remembers conversations with Elliot, the intimate positions they'd find themselves in as they'd tried to keep their words private. She recalls the grey sweatshirt, the one that at this moment is in a laundry basket at the foot of her bad, that bounced from her locker to his.

She shakes her head as she pulls the knick-knacks and papers out of the small cubby, and she slams it closed for the last time. She tilts her head as she pulls the construction paper folder with her name on it off the door, and she drops it into the trash bin to her left. She's aware Fin and Munch are staring as she moves back to her desk, but she can't bring herself to care.

She continues to chew her lip as she looks at the slick surface, her head tilts and jerks as she ponders the importance of the stuff that's scattered over the top. She nods as she lifts up and stacks the picture frames, and then she drops them into a cardboard box on the empty desk across from hers.

A few pens fly into it next, and a solved Rubik's Cube lands somewhere inside as she tosses it. She takes a deep breath as she pulls open the top drawer, and that's when the tears well up in her eyes. Her fingers curl around the pendant lying in the drawer, and when she lifts it up, the chain dangles, making everyone aware of what she's now holding.

"Semper Fi," she whispers, her thumb brushing over the embossed medal Elliot had sent her months ago. Her other hand trails down to her stomach and she smiles, the meaning behind the necklace is deeper than anyone could have known. She sniffles as she slides her fingers toward the clasp and loops the necklace over her head. She shuffles around in the drawer again, looking for any other personal treasures, things she would hate to leave behind.

"It's funny," she says, shutting her drawer, "That for thirteen years this place has been...my entire life." She looks up, then, finally daring to meet Munch's concerned eyes. "And all I have to show for it is in that box," she says, gesturing to the half-filled cardboard container.

Munch blinks, then he stands. "You have us," he says. "Why are you...I mean, I thought once Elliot got a confession you...that you would..."

"Change my mind?" she chuckles, wiping her eyes. "No, Munch. It was an easy decision to make. There's nothing for me here anymore." She looks over her shoulder to a man a few desks way. "Briscoe!" she shouts.

"Yeah?" the younger detective questions.

She smiles at him, remembering his first day on the squad when he was afraid to even look at her. "Can you make sure the files in this desk get to where they need to go?"

"Yeah," Briscoe says, walking over to her. "You leaving early?"

"No," she says with a smile. "I'm actually leaving a little too late." She looks back at Munch and says, "Don't make the new guy drink your coffee, okay?"

Munch laughs, but then throws his arms around her. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Olivia," he whispers, the cry in his voice clear.

Olivia takes a hard breath as she lets herself hug him back. "I know," she says to him. "But I became a cop to put the assholes away. I didn't think I'd ever have to work with them."

"You can't leave," Fin says, acknowledging her for the first time in a few hours.

She looks at him, her eyes narrow, and she pulls herself away from Munch. "Sure I can," she says, wiping at her eyes. "Sign a few papers, pack a box, out the door I go. It's..."

"No," Fin says, getting to his feet. "You can't. I didn't...things happened because you...you can't leave now, not after...do you have any idea..."

"Fin," Olivia says, cutting him off, taking a step toward him. "What are you talking about?"

Elliot, at that moment, steps out into the squad room. "I think you already know, Liv," he says, carefully heading toward Fin. "For the record, she wasn't going anywhere until this morning. That's when she decided. So you really didn't stop anything," he says, nodding once at Fin. "You caused it."

Fin shakes his head and laughs bitterly. "Fuck," he spits. "He told you."

"Your badge," Elliot says, holding out a pair of cuffs, "The one you gave back to Bradshaw? It had her blood on it," he says, jiggling the cuffs around in his hands. "I don't...I don't wanna drag you out of here like this, man."

Fin looks up, looks around, and looks at Olivia. "All of this, and you're still gone," he says. He turns his head and looks at Dean. "I'll talk to you," he says. He moves, holding his hands out to Porter. "Go ahead."

Dean eyes Elliot as he takes his own cuffs out of his pocket.

The tears that were threatening to fall from Olivia's eyes finally do as she watches Dean wrap the silver bracelets around Fin's wrists. "Oh, my God," she breathes, instinctively gripping Elliot's hand.

He squeezes back, moving closer to her, and he, too, is speechless as his friend is pulled from the room by his partner. He licks his lips, and he looks from Olivia to Munch and back again. "Cragen didn't rape her, or kill her," he says, brushing Olivia's hand with his thumb. "He was..."

"Protecting Fin," she finishes, nodding. "He would." She clears her throat again and pulls her hand out of Elliot's. She grabs the box off of what was once his desk, and she blinks once. Her head turns, her eyes take in the sight of the squad room, and she smiles. The nights she spent in the cribs, the days she spent glued to the coffee pot, the arguments she had with Elliot in the middle of the room and the times they made up when no one was watching, every moment of the twelve years she spent with him in this room comes flooding back to her.

She shakes her head and laughs, knowing that they're all just moments she'll never get back, but they mean everything to her. She sighs, then she looks at Elliot, still right next to her. She narrows her eyes as she remembers the moments he saved her. She remembers White, and Rook, and Gitano, and she remembers Oregon, and Germany, and the Jersey shore and she shuts her eyes as she recalls the feeling of always finding her way back to him.

She remembers the times she saved him, too. She remembers Bushido, Stuckey, and Picard. She remembers Elliot's mother, Eli, Kathleen, the baby she has yet to name.

Trust kept them both alive, together, through it all. When it comes down to it it's trust...and love...and the unwillingness to let it go because someone tried to force their hand and drive a wedge between them.

That's when she remembers Cragen and Alex. Jenna. Sister Peg. Amanda Rollins. "Let's go," she says, opening her eyes and swallowing hard. Her hands grip the box tightly as she moves toward the door, and she licks her lips as she watches Elliot, and she smiles when she realizes this is him saving her again. It;s her partner leading her away from the people who have hurt her, and taking her someplace safe. "El?"

He picks up the stapled papers off of her desk and he walks over to her. He smiles at her as he kisses her cheek, then walks into the interrogation room again, striding up to Ed Tucker. Silently, he hands the papers to Tucker and shakes his head.

"Take care of her," Tucker says, nodding once.

"Always have," Elliot returns, backing out of the room, "Always will." He walks away, then moves toward Olivia. He takes the box out of her hands and notices, as he looks at her, the medallion around his neck. He smiles but says nothing, as he sends one last look around the room.

"Guys?" Munch questions, part of him hoping this is all just a dream.

Elliot shakes his head and sighs. "See you in court, Detective."

Munch nods. "Guess so, Agent Stabler," he returns. And he watches, with a broken heart and a broken spirit, as Elliot and Olivia walk out of the squad room together, neither turning back.

Tucker, emotionally conflicted himself, finally walks out of the pit, followed by a few uniformed men and Cragen in cuffs. He looks at Munch, then looks at Cragen's office, and the message is clear. "If you need me..."

"I know where to find you," Munch says, heading for the office. As he opens the door, though, he turns around. He doesn't know anyone's name, he doesn't recognize anyone in the squad room anymore. He sighs and he shakes his head, wondering where it all went wrong, and hating the fact that nothing could be done to fix any of it.

He walks forward and sits in the leather chair behind the desk, and when the phone rings, he answers it. He closes his eyes as he listens to the voice on the other end, and he only hopes that things will get back to normal, at least a version of normal he can handle. He slams the phone down and searches through the files on his desk to figure out who to put on the case, wondering if he would ever be able to move on.

He would, soon, he hopes. After all, in cases like this, it's only a matter of trust.

**A/N: Fini.**


End file.
